


Felix in Aeternum

by EllenOfOz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Halloween, Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Witch Castiel (Supernatural), Witch's Familiar Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-01-16 01:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21262853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllenOfOz/pseuds/EllenOfOz
Summary: It’s fall, and that means Castiel’s best friend Charlie is obsessed with Halloween. At least he made a new friend at the pumpkin festival that Charlie dragged him to—a black cat with bright green eyes. But a few days later, the cat shows up at Cas’ door, and strange things start happening around him.This Halloween may just turn out to be a lot more supernatural than he ever thought possible.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *** Please note, this fic is temporarily on hiatus while I catch up on bang fics. I have every intention of writing it until its finished before posting more, hopefully before too long. Thanks for your patience, and your enthusiasm <3 ***
> 
> Happy Halloween! I owe this fic entirely to my friends TrenchcoatBaby and WaywardAF67, because they did indeed go to a pumpkin festival and met a black cat with green eyes. That cat is definitely TBC's familiar and you can't convince me otherwise. 
> 
> This story won't be too long, but I can't promise a regular schedule because my November is crazy-busy (as well as a certain other WIP on the go). I have plenty of fun planned, though, so stick around. There will be explicit content eventually, and tags will be added as we go (but no archive warnings).
> 
> Thanks as always for working your beta magic: WaywardAF67, WaywardJenn, Lorelei2005, TrenchcoatBaby and CBFirestarter <3

**Chapter one**

"Hey Cas, check this one out!" 

Castiel turns away from the pumpkin carved like Jack Skellington and raises one eyebrow at Charlie. She beckons to him from further down the display. 

Honestly, she's like one of the kids here at the Lawrence Pumpkin Festival rather than acting her thirty-two years, but it's one of the things that Cas loves about his best friend. He smiles fondly as he walks over to her, admiring the Death Star pumpkin she's pointing to. 

"That's pumpkin goals, right there," she says, moving excitedly on to the next part of the display. 

Cas stifles a yawn as he follows her around. He had been all for dinner at Waffle House with his best friend on this Friday night, but it’s been a long, irritating day at work and he could really have done without the trip around this festival she’s dragged him to, no matter how cleverly designed the thousands of jack-o-lanterns are. There’s a chilly breeze blowing up the street which seems to be blowing right through his jacket. He shudders.

The lights flicker, with an odd fizzing noise.

Cas stops, looking around where he’s standing. He’s lagging behind Charlie at the moment, and the only other people are a long way behind him. He should probably find someone to warn, if the electric lights are faulty—someone could get hurt.

The lights fizz again, and Cas takes a step back from the pumpkins, their leering faces suddenly a little ominous. Something rustles in the bushes just behind where he stands. He turns and hurries to catch up to Charlie, who has been chatting animatedly to a girl who appears to be the current attendant. 

“So basically, Kylo Ren should’ve kept his mask on to stay way more badass!” Charlie says, while the other girl nods along, smiling. They both turn to look at Cas as he approaches, Charlie saying, “You okay, Cas? You look a little spooked.” She turns to grin at the other girl, who smiles at Cas apologetically. 

“Um, yeah, I’m fine. The lights back there are flickering a little, though. Might want to check them out,” he says to the girl as he gestures back over his shoulder.

Charlie speaks up before the girl can get a word in. “Really? They were fine here. Sorry, I didn’t introduce you. Dorothy, this is my bestie, Castiel. Cas, this is Dorothy. She’s also at KU, just looking after the pumpkins while they’re here.”

“Hi,” Dorothy says, reaching out to shake Cas’ hand. 

He smiles at her. “Nice to meet you. Sorry Charlie, but is it okay if we go? I’m freezing.” 

Charlie frowns. “Okay then.” Her smile returns, sunny as always. “Nice to chat with you, Dorothy. See you around sometime!”

They head back towards where Charlie’s car is parked in a side street, but on the way, Charlie stops and grabs Cas’ arm.

“Wait. Just…one sec?” She takes off back up the street.

Cas calls after her, “Why? What’re you doing?”

“I’ll be right back!” she yells.

Cas stands on the sidewalk, the street quiet, dark and empty around him. “I’ll just wait here then,” he mutters, then hears a soft mew from behind him. As he turns, a cat bumps its furry head into his shin. He blinks down at it.

It’s not like he has anything against cats—his mother had one when he was growing up, but it would never come near him, always hissed and ran away. This one doesn’t seem to have the same aversion to him as it rubs its head all over his legs. 

“Hey there,” he murmurs, letting the cat sniff his hand before it nuzzles into his palm. Its fur is soft and perfectly black under the orange street light, and as he runs a hand down its back, he feels a crackling kind of static under it. That’s funny, he would’ve thought it was too damp at this time of year to be getting a static charge like that. He rubs the cat behind the ears, smiling as it starts up a loud purr, its eyes almost completely closed. “You like that, huh?” he asks, blinking in surprise as the cat opens its eyes to stare at him, its bright green eyes shining.

The cat stays still for longer than Cas might have expected a cat to, just staring at him. He feels pinned in place by the gaze.

“Aw, you made a friend,” Charlie says behind Cas, making him jump. The cat seems to snap out of its staring match as Charlie continues, “What a sweet little kitty. Here, puss puss,” she calls, leaning down next to Cas and holding out her hand for the cat to rub its head on. “He doesn’t have a collar or anything. I wonder if he lives around here.” Charlie stands up and looks around. “Okay, mission successful. I got her number,” she says, grinning and holding up her phone. 

“Nice work,” Cas says, getting back to his feet. Charlie starts heading off towards her car, but Castiel looks down at the cat. It’s sitting on its haunches, looking up at him, its big, green eyes still gazing up at him. “See you ‘round,” he murmurs, reaching down and scratching the cat’s ears again. 

He stands and walks away after Charlie, and when he turns to glance back over his shoulder, the cat is still sitting there in the pool of light from the streetlamp, still and quiet.

***

Castiel’s life is boring, he’ll be the first to admit, but that's just how he likes it. He has a steady job as a technical writer, works with his best friend, and lives alone in a comfortable, ground-floor apartment. Each morning he grabs coffee from a place on his walk to the office, and eats at the cafe downstairs for lunch, often with Charlie. He keeps his place tidy and attempts to keep the potted plants around his back courtyard alive, with mixed results. 

It’s all very predictable, which suits him. He’s okay with living alone—has for a few years now. Nothing out of the ordinary ever happens to him. Which is why, when he’s walking home from work on a rainy October thirtieth, he’s surprised to see a black cat sitting on his doorstep, staring at him. 

Castiel struggles with his umbrella as he fumbles with his keys, trying not to get wet in the drizzling rain as he puts the key in the door then stops, looking down at the wet, miserable-looking cat that has now stopped staring at him and is now staring out into the busy street instead. 

It couldn't be…could it? It certainly looks like the black cat from a few nights ago—black fur, green eyes, about the right size—but the pumpkin festival had been two neighbourhoods over. How would the same cat have got here? _It couldn't be_, he chides himself. What a stupid idea. 

The cat looks up at him again. It meows quietly, pitifully, and Castiel’s heart clenches in his chest, despite knowing full well that animals, especially cats, might look cute but will happily kill you in your sleep. 

He sighs. It's supposed to be cold out tonight, maybe even below freezing. He may regret this. 

He unlocks his front door and walks inside, putting his umbrella down to shake it out and making the cat flinch at the shower of droplets. "Sorry, kitty," he mutters, moving further inside to put his laptop bag down on the coffee table

When he gets back to the partially open door, the cat is peering inside. It doesn't flinch when Castiel opens the door a little wider, just looks up at him with those wide, green eyes. 

"Would you care to come inside?" he asks formally, bowing at the waist. 

The cat makes a noise that Cas thinks is a sneeze, but also sounds a little like a laugh. He blinks—where the hell had that come from? 

The cat gets to its feet, pushes one front paw out in front in a languous stretch, then the other, and struts into the apartment, head high and looking around with curiosity. 

"Huh," Cas says, closing the front door against the rainy evening, and follows the cat as it checks out each room of the apartment in turn—the living room, the kitchen, and down the hall to the bedrooms and bathroom. It pads back into the living room and stops on the carpet in front of the radiator, where it sits down and starts to clean its wet fur.

Cas isn’t quite sure what to do next. Should he try to dry the cat? It seems to be doing a great job of cleaning its own fur, so he heads into the kitchen in search of dinner. He certainly doesn’t have any cat food in the house—he vaguely remembers that cow’s milk is bad for cats, so he finds some minced beef in the freezer to defrost and dump in a bowl. Filling another bowl with water, he places them on the floor in the kitchen, hoping the cat will find them eventually. He doesn’t want to rush it. 

He grabs leftover pizza from the fridge and heads back to the living room, settling in front of the TV and opening his laptop to do a little work. 

After a few minutes, the cat pauses in its tongue-bath to jump up on the couch and walk over to Cas, sniffing at the pizza in his hand. Cas holds the food away from the cat, saying, “Uh-uh, pizza is not for cats.”

The cat fixes him with a flat stare. 

“Your food is in the kitchen!” he says defensively before wondering why he’s justifying himself, but it seems to work, because the cat jumps down and disappears for a little while. 

When it returns, it jumps back up on the opposite end of the couch from Cas and resumes cleaning itself, licking its paw and rubbing at its face.

Cas watches it for a moment, distracted from the TV. “I wonder where you came from. Are you the same cat I met the other night?” Cas asks, and the cat resolutely ignores him. He continues speaking softly, “Are you a boy cat or a girl cat? You’re quite tall for a cat, but I guess that doesn’t mean anything. Do you have a name? Maybe I should name you.” Cas stops sharply. No, you only name pets, and this cat was certainly not a pet, and wouldn’t be staying here. This was just while it was cold and wet outside. He wasn’t even sure if the building association would let him keep a cat here.

The cat finishes its bath and curls up in a circle, tucking its head onto its front paws. Cas would reach over and pat it, but it’s just out of reach, and when he tries to shuffle over and puts a hand out, the cat lifts its head and glares at him. He retreats back to his end of the couch, disgruntled. 

“What the use of having a cat if it won’t let you touch it?” he asks, giving the cat the side eye. "You'd better not have fleas."

The cat glares right back, then puts its head down and goes to sleep.

When Cas’ show finishes, and he gets up to shower and get ready for bed, the cat doesn’t stir. 

***

Castiel wakes up slowly, aware of his alarm going off but not willing to move, even to turn it off. He'd been dreaming, but the content was hazy—all he knows it that it left him uneasy, like something had been after him, but he was barely keeping ahead of it. 

He should get up, but it's so warm and comfortable in bed. He rolls onto his back and freezes when something moves beside him. The cat stretches out long on the bed, then curls up where it had been tucked into Cas' back, and goes back to sleep. 

Cas stares at it, not sure what to do next. He should really kick the cat out, if not out of his apartment, certainly out of his bed—what if it really does have fleas? 

But as he looks down at its soft ears, the peaceful look on its sleeping face, he finds he can't bring himself to disturb it. He tries to get up carefully, but as soon as the blankets are disturbed, the cat is awake and staring at him again. 

"Morning, puss," he murmurs. "I should really give you a name. How about…" He pauses, trying to remember fictional cat names. "Felix? Phantom? Maybe…Binx?" 

The cat turns its nose up and sticks one foot in the air, licking its butt clean like it was telling Cas exactly what it thought of his ideas. 

Cas snorts a laugh and gets up, heading for the bathroom in just his boxers. "Fine, I'll keep thinking." 

The cat is still sitting in a warm puddle of blankets when he gets out of the shower, watching him carefully as he crosses the room to his closet. He pauses, work clothes in hand. "Could you just…look away, please?" 

Cas is sure he must be going crazy, because he's sure he saw the cat's eyes widen before it lies back down, snuggling into the blankets and closes its eyes again. "Huh. I guess you think you live here now, don't you," he says as he throws on his black suit pants and a white dress shirt. As he selects his blue tie, he adds, "I can't let you stay inside all day in case you need the bathroom, I'm afraid." He glances at the bed. The cat's head is still resting on its paws, but its eyes are open, regarding Cas. "You're gonna have to go out."

Why the hell is he talking to a cat? He wonders if this is how crazy cat ladies are born—one day a cat adopts you, then you start losing your mind.

The cat follows him out into the kitchen, rubbing up against his legs as he makes some toast. He steps around it, wondering what he should do. He could take the cat to a vet, or a shelter? But didn't they just put stray animals down? He doesn't want to be responsible for a death—besides, a beautiful, healthy cat like this must belong to someone. Perhaps he could ask around, see if anyone's lost a cat. 

The toast pops and he reaches for it, but as he grabs it a spark jumps from the toaster, burning his fingertips. Dumping the toast on the bench top while cursing loudly, he turns on the the cool water faucet and sticks his stinging fingers into the stream. Is there something wrong with the wiring in his apartment? The toaster shouldn’t be faulty—he’d only bought it recently.

As he stands there, the cat jumps up on the counter, sniffing at the water running in the sink. 

"Hey, get down from there, Felix!" 

Ignoring Cas completely, the cat butts its head against his wrist, making a shiver travel along his arm. Cas stares as it jumps down again, heading over to its water bowl, drinking in a few long laps. 

Castiel removes his hand from the water and inspects his fingertips, finding only completely smooth, ordinary skin. It mustn’t have been as bad a burn as he thought, he muses as he turns off the faucet and wipes his hands dry. 

As he finishes getting ready for work, the cat follows him around and sits near him, licking its paws or just watching him in an unnerving way. It jumps up on the counter again and watches him as he puts on his shoes, then slowly, deliberately, pushes the salt shaker off the edge of the counter with one paw, watching with interest as it clatters to the floor. 

Salt sprays everywhere as the top pops off, and Cas jumps to his feet. "Hey!" 

The cat flinches at his shout, but gives him a smug kind of look. 

"That's it, you're definitely not staying in here while I'm gone," he mutters, shrugging on his tan trenchcoat and slinging his laptop bag over his shoulder. He moves warily over to the cat and puts his hand out slowly, giving it a chance to back away if it wasn't interested, but the cat puts its wet nose right into Cas' palm, nuzzling into it. He strokes across its head and scratches behind its soft ears, and wonders why this feels so comforting. He'll be sad when he finds the cat's real home and has to say goodbye. 

He carefully fits his hand around the cat's middle, picking it up against his chest. It's faint, but Cas can certainly hear, can _feel_, the cat purring.

He sets the cat down outside the front door and closes it firmly behind them both. "Sorry, puss, but you can't stay. Go home, be happy."

He walks off down the street, but when he turns just before the corner, the cat is still sitting on his front step, watching him. 

***

Cas sighs, pushing his chair back. He refuses to take his laptop home with him tonight—he's sick of trying to get this document finished. 

He's had meeting after meeting today, and even when he'd managed to avoid the stupid dress-up lunch for Halloween that Charlie had been so excited about, he hadn't been able to get much work done because both of his monitors had been on the fritz, randomly turning off and fuzzing out now and then. 

He put his trenchcoat back on and walked over to Charlie, putting his hand on her shoulder with a little squeeze. 

"I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun tonight." 

She looks up at him, smiling. "You sure you don't want to come along? I have it on good authority that there'll be lots of eligible guys there?" 

Castiel lets out a short laugh. Charlie's always trying to hook him up with someone or other, and while he's well and truly moved on from his last disastrous relationship, the idea of trying to meet someone at a party just fills him with dread. 

"No, that's okay. I've got candy for the kids and _Making a Murderer _with my name on it." 

"Okay then! Enjoy snuggle time with your kitty!" Charlie grins. 

Cas shakes his head. "I hope it's long gone now, honestly. I have enough trouble looking after myself, let alone a pet."

"I dunno, Cas, it might be good for you," Charlie says with a shrug. 

Cas huffs. "Sure. I'll see you tomorrow."

He heads out to the elevator, but when he reaches out his fingers to press the button there's a crackling snap and a visible arc of electricity to his fingertips. 

"What the…?" he mutters. He's not game to try the button again so he heads back to the office door to call out, "Charlie? Don't use the elevator, something's wrong with it."

He gets a garbled affirmative response—Charlie must be head-down in code again. He heads back to the lift but turns to take the stairs instead, hurrying down the several flights to the ground floor. 

"Hey, Benny?" he says to the security guard behind the concierge desk. "Could you get someone out to look at the elevators? It nearly electrocuted me when I tried to press the button on level five."

Benny nods amiably. "I'll call someone out, Cas. You have a good night now, brother."

"Thanks. You too," Cas replies, and heads out to the street. 

Thankfully the rain has cleared, and even in the few blocks to his apartment he sees kids dressed up in various costumes—mostly superheroes, but there are several witches and one kid dressed as a convincing vampire, with red blood dripping down his chin. 

As Cas gets closer to home, he sees a group of trick or treaters at his door, clustered around something on the ground. Even from across the street, he sees the black cat, weaving between legs, and hears the delighted sighs of the children as they pat it. 

_Little social butterfly_, Cas thinks, smiling to himself. Looks like he'll have company for another night. _Crazy cat lady, here I come_. 

A shout from higher in the building distracts him just before he crosses the road—the noisy neighbours two floors up seem to be having a Halloween party, although he really wishes they weren’t drinking out on the balcony at five pm when the kids are still around. 

As Cas watches, a girl leans out over the balcony with a glass bottle in her hand, and a kid jostles her from behind making her fumble the bottle. She drops it, and it spins lazily in the air towards the children and cat below. 

Cas sees this and rushes forward onto the road, shouting "look out!" with his hand stretched out in front of him, wishing he could catch the bottle. 

A zap of electricity shoots down his arm and crackles between his fingers for barely a moment…and the glass bottle slams against the side of his building next to his front door, smashing into pieces and coating the brown brick in something blue. 

A few of the kids shriek and jump back, and the adult with them turns to look around behind her—right at Cas, who is rushing across the road towards them. 

Her eyes widen. "Did you _throw_ that bottle at us? What are you, some kinda psycho?!" she shouts. 

"No, no, it was falling—" Cas begins, but she cuts him off, holding a couple of the children closer to her.

"Come on, let's go, this guy's dangerous. Expect to hear from the cops, mister!" She marches the kids away, a few of them looking back at him with open curiosity. 

Cas looks down at his hand, sparks of electricity still arcing faintly between his fingers. _Maybe she's right,_ he thinks, panic starting to claw its way up his throat. He fumbles his keys out of his coat pocket and opens the door, and is nearly tripped over by a furry black streak as the cat darts into the apartment. 

Cursing, Cas dumps his keys quickly and moves into the living room, switching on the light as he goes and earning a small zap as he does. He stands in the middle of the room and stares at his hands as bright, fizzling electricity arcs between his fingers like a plasma ball he'd once seen at the science museum. The prickling feeling as it moves across his skin is not unpleasant, but there's a tightness in his chest, expanding slowly. His heart hammers as he looks down at the rest of him and sees more lightning rolling across his trenchcoat and down his legs. 

He slowly brings his palms close to each other, watching as a ball of light between them grows so bright that he can barely look at it. The light bulb above his head blows with a pop, sparks raining down around him. The cat hisses and runs behind the couch as Cas feels something warm and bright roaring along his limbs.

He closes his eyes tightly and cries out as it erupts out of him, pouring out of his fingers and down into the earth. 

After what feels like hours but may have only been a few seconds, Cas hears a scuffle behind his couch, and he opens his eyes to find that the electricity has gone. There’s still something powerful racing along his veins, but he’s not on fire, so that’s a start. 

The pitch dark inside the apartment presses in on him, stifling. Waiting.

He hears the scuffle again, then a long, drawn-out groan. A human groan.

“Freaking finally!”

A man’s voice.

Cas stands completely still, his heart thundering in his ears. His hand goes slowly to his pocket, fishing out his phone. Amazingly it’s still functional, and he fires up the flashlight, holding the phone up to shine around the darkened room.

A man is standing behind the couch. A tall, _naked_, man. 

“Hi,” he says, grinning disarmingly.

A tall, naked, _very attractive_ man.

“I’m Dean,” he says.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, and welcome to chapter two. I've got to thank you all for your warm and wonderful responses to the first chapter of this little tale! I'm gonna try to get new chapters up every couple of weeks, life permitting.

Castiel stares, unmoving in the middle of his dark living room. He shifts his phone so the light shines down to where the man's bare torso narrows down into slim hips, and—yep, he's definitely naked. Cas' eyes snap back up to the guy's face. 

The smile on the man's face falters as he glances down at himself. "Oops," he says. "Seems I couldn't quite hold onto my clothes."

The paralysis holding Cas in place seems to drop as a cool fury replaces it. "What the hell are you doing in my apartment?" he demands as he shrugs out of his trenchcoat, nearly dropping his phone in the process. 

He flings the coat at the man, who catches it across his chest. 

"Easy, tiger! You invited me in." 

Cas splutters, "I certainly did not! What do you want?" 

The guy's forehead creases in confusion. "You didn't work that out from the fireworks?" he asks, wiggling the fingers of one hand while he holds the trenchcoat against himself with the other. "Could we get moving? We're running out of time." 

Cas' heart hammers in his chest. "What the hell are you talking about?" he demands, quickly looking around for something to use as a weapon. 

"The cemetery! Come on, the sooner we get there the sooner we can get it over with. You got a pair of jeans I could borrow or something?" 

Cas actually feels the blood drain out of his face, and a chill replace it. The _cemetery_? This guy is some kind of psychopath, and Cas is his next victim. How could this shitty day get any worse? He's got to get out of this. He backs towards his bookshelves, thinking of the large dagger he bought at SDCC last year. It's not at all sharp, but maybe it'll look threatening. 

Cas bumps into the bookshelf behind him as he watches the guy shrug on the trenchcoat, tying it up at the waist. Cas fumbles around on the shelf until he locates the dagger, closing his hand around the handle. 

He whips the knife around to his front, advancing until the guy is forced to back up a few steps into one of Cas' dining chairs, his hands raised. 

"Whoa, whoa! What's your problem, buddy?" the guy exclaims. 

Cas tries to channel his terror into something approximating menace. "I'm not going anywhere with you! You're insane!" 

"I'm insane? You're the one waving a—" the guy gestures at the knife being shakily pointed towards him, "—a tiny sword at me! It's Link's sword, right? Doesn't look real sharp." 

Cas blinks in surprise, then narrows his eyes. Just because this guy knows Zelda doesn't mean he's less of a psycho. "Shut up. Get out of my house before I call the cops."

"Wait, you really don't know who I am?" 

Cas' brow furrows in his confusion. "Should I?" 

"Fuck. That's just what I need, bonded with a complete noob." The guy throws his hands up, looking annoyed. 

There are so many problematic words in that sentence, Cas isn't sure which to home in on first—bonded? _Noob_? 

He brandishes the tiny sword again, stepping back towards Dean, emphasising each word with a stab towards him. "What. Are. You. Talking. About?"

"Okay, firstly, I'm a familiar. A shifter, in fact. And you're a witch."

Castiel gapes at him. "You're insane," he repeats. 

"Not the first time I've been called that, but no." He points towards Cas. "You're my witch. You invited me in, and I quickened your powers, and you unlocked my shift. That means we're bonded, buddy." He spits the last word out, his annoyance clear. 

Cas' confusion clamours in his head. Him, a witch? This guy has got to be high or something. Where does this guy get off, getting shitty with him when it's Castiel’s house he's broken into?

"What? I never invited you in, you were here when I got home! You—" He stops dead, the guy's words catching up to him. _Shifter_. A blur of black fur, behind the couch. Lightning in him and around him. 

The guy seems to give him a few seconds, then shakes his head, still annoyed. "I can't believe you're completely green. Would it help if I shifted back again? I'm a bit out of practice but I'll give it a shot, okay?" 

As Cas watches, the guy closes his eyes and breathes deep. There's a sensation in the air that Cas can only describe as a tightening, then he disappears without a sound, the trenchcoat falling to the floor. 

Cas gasps, then rushes over to the coat and squats beside it, shining the light from his phone onto it. A black furry head peeks out from underneath. Cas' jaw falls open again as the cat walks out, nudging against his knee and giving him a look that clearly says, "_See_?" 

"Felix?" Cas asks in barely a whisper, then frowns as the cat actually _rolls its eyes_. 

The cat walks a few steps away, then stretches again, except this time it appears to _grow_, longer at first, then taller. It stands up on its hind legs, fur replaced with smooth, freckled skin. 

Cas scrambles back to his feet as the man picks the trenchcoat up again to cover his nakedness. 

His heart feels as though it might give out at any moment, with how it's beating against his ribs. He couldn't possibly have just seen a man turn into a cat and back again, could he? Had he eaten something? Some LSD-spiked Halloween candy, perhaps? 

"The name's Dean," the guy says, "Although I do find it incredibly cute that you named me." He smirks as he puts the coat back on. 

Castiel feels his face heating, and he turns away, although he's not quite ready to replace the dagger on its shelf. So this _Dean_ is the black cat? A shifter? A familiar? It would all sound like some elaborate Halloween prank, if he hadn't just seen it before his eyes. 

"So, can we go now? Kinda need to get to Stull." Dean is looking expectantly at Cas when Cas turns back towards him. 

Right, the cemetery again. "And why exactly do we need to go to the Stull Cemetery, on Halloween? The place will be full of ghost hunters and idiots." Castiel may have only lived in Lawrence for a few years, but he knew Stull's reputation as supposedly one of the most haunted places in the whole country. 

Dean nods, still obviously annoyed. "And witches. I hoped we could get there well before now, but you dragged your feet with the whole Palpatine thing—" he extends his hands, fingers crooked, "—so if you could just find me some pants, that'd be great." 

The exasperation in his voice is the last straw for Cas. He steps towards Dean, raising the dagger to chest level and channelling all his anger into his stare. "Look, _Dean_," he bites out, "I don't care what kind of creature you are, I've had a full day of complete bullshit and I'm not taking you anywhere at—" he checks his phone, "—ten pm. Now _get out_."

As he said the last few words, a crackle of electricity moves down his hand and along the knife blade, lighting up the delighted look on Dean's face. 

"There you are!" he says with a grin. "See? You're getting it!" 

Cas stares at him, momentarily confused by his reaction. "What?" 

"Anger focuses your magic. Look, I know this is all kinda messed up right now, but we literally do not have time to fuck around. I'll take you to meet someone who can do a much better job of explaining it than I can. And we need you there…" He pauses, then adds, "What's your name?" 

Cas blinks, disarmed by the question. Something is going on with him, that's for sure—the lightning alone has him freaking out—but the fact that this…cat-person is here… He just needs to know what's happening, and it seems the only way to find out is to go with him. But does it have to involve going to a graveyard on Halloween? 

He lowers the dagger, taking a step back. "Cas. I'm Cas."

"Hokay, Cas," Dean says, breathing out in relief. "That's better. Now, about those pants?" 

***

Fifteen minutes later, Cas drives his Prius along West 6th St, heading out of Lawrence. The cemetery is only twenty minutes away, but he intends to wring as much information out of Dean as he can in that time. He'd rather be somewhat prepared before they get there. 

“What’s happening at the cemetery?” he asks, coming to a stop at some lights.

Dean finishes tying up the second of a pair of Cas’ running shoes he’s borrowed and sits back, looking uncomfortable in a pair of Cas' jeans that are a little too big for Cas himself, but somehow seem to be enormous on Dean, even though he's taller. Cas has to admit, he looks great in the white t-shirt and jacket he also borrowed, but the scowl on his face kind of ruins the effect. He snaps out, “I won’t know until we get there.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “No need to get shitty with me. Why the urgency if you don’t even know what’s happening?”

Dean sighs, looking out the window at the dark street. “‘Cause I haven’t been there in years, okay?”

Cas wonders what could be so important to rush back to after all this time. “Where’ve you been?” he murmurs, not really expecting an answer.

“Looking for you,” Dean snaps, and goes back to staring out the window.

The silence in the car stretches thin. Has Dean really been looking for him in particular? He’s dying to ask more questions, but Dean doesn’t seem to be in the mood to answer anything right now. He’s just wondering whether it’s worth putting on the radio when they’re only a few minutes away from Stull, when Dean speaks up again. 

“All right, I guess I’d better at least give you a bit of a heads up as to what might happen.” He pauses, and Cas waits for him to continue.

“My family—we’re all magical. As kids we were brought up in the life, but our family, our coven, is special. We have a task to perform here at Stull each Solstice and at Samhain.” He pauses again to glance over at Cas. “To hold the gate.”

“The gate?” Cas asks, unable to hold his curiosity back this time. “What gate?”

“The Hellgate.” 

Cas shakes his head. Definitely insane. “Do I even want to know what that is?” he asks, wishing he’d stayed at home where it was warm.

“Yeah, well...you’ll see,” Dean replies. "We have to keep it closed. If things get out of there..." He trails off, rubbing his hands along the tops of his thighs, and for some reason the motion makes Cas want to know about this “hellgate” and what could come out of it even less.

As they approach the cemetery along the right side of the road, Cas pulls over behind several other cars. Looks like someone beat them here, at least. Cas digs his flashlight out from under the driver’s seat, thankful that it still has some battery.

They leave the car on the grassy sidewalk and Cas follows Dean past the other cars towards the entrance gate, eyeing the dark cemetery extending up a hill away from the road. Cas’ flashlight beam cuts through a low mist hanging around the entrance, their footsteps sounding dull under its blanket.

Inside the gate, Dean looks away up the hill, where the gravel driveway extends in front of them and disappears into the mist. “This way.” 

Cas glances back towards where his car is parked, the cooling metal ticking in the quiet night air. Too late to turn back now. He clutches the flashlight tighter, hoping it’ll work as a weapon in case Dean is really planning to murder him.

The mist gradually thins out as they climb the hill, allowing them to see more of the gravestones spread out against the green hillside. There’s light ahead, somewhere out of side over the hill— the edge of it sends a golden glow into the air.

Dean starts hiking uphill faster. “Shit, it’s already starting. Come on, Cas.”

“What is that?” Castiel asks as he stands watching Dean hurry off, panting with the exertion.

Dean doesn’t look back, but keeps heading off across the grass. “It’s the gate.”

Cas watches him go for barely a moment before he hurries to catch up. There’s no way he’s standing around out here alone in the dark.

The glow intensifies as they cross the field, dim grey headstones looming out of the shadows around them. There’s a feeling in the air—the same kind of buzzing sensation that Cas had felt in his apartment earlier. Something brushes past Cas, sending goosebumps across his skin even under his trenchcoat, but when he turns there’s nothing there. He hurries to stay closer to Dean.

When they get far enough up the hill to see the light source, it blinds Castiel with its intensity. Once he’s able to look near the light again, he sees a group of people standing around near the entrance to a large crypt, silhouetted in the bright light coming out of the crypt's doorway. As Cas and Dean approach, they turn, squinting into the shadows. Many of them are in defensive positions, their hands raised in front of them. Two of them have shotguns pointed in their direction, although not directly at them. 

“Dean,” Cas murmurs as they get closer, “are you sure this is a good—” 

A tall, gangly guy with long hair is the first to speak, cutting off Cas’ question. “Dean?” He sounds unsure.

“Sammy,” Dean breathes, and darts forward to grab the tall man in a tight hug. A few of the other people in the group come forward to hug Dean or clap him on the shoulder, while Cas stands awkwardly to the side. 

“I thought you were never coming back,” the guy called Sammy says, his eyes shiny with tears.

“Well, sometimes it can take a while, you know that,” Dean mutters, casting Cas a glance. “Sam, this is Cas. I finally found him." His mouth quirks in a grin. "Cas, my little brother, Sam.” 

Sam steps forward, extending his hand to Cas with a smile. "Nice to meet you," he says, and Cas takes his large hand, still confused, but pleased to finally have an interaction he isn't bewildered by. 

Another large man steps forward, and Cas is startled to discover he already knows him. “Benny?” 

“Hey, Cas. Good to see you here.”

An older man in a battered ball cap calls over his shoulder from behind Dean. "Save the introductions for later, boys. We've got incoming." He cocks his shotgun and stares off towards the glowing doorway. “Get in yer positions, quickly!” 

Dean turns to Cas, gesturing back behind them with his head. “C’mon.” 

The group spread out around the crypt in a loose circle, as far as Cas can make out in the dim light behind the shadow of the building, anyway. 

“What’s going on?” he asks Dean, but Dean merely shakes his head. 

“No time to explain. Gimme your hand.” He holds his hand out for Cas to take.

Cas just stares at him. “What for?”

Dean glares at him, impatient all over again. “You’re completely new at this, and like I said before, I’m out of practice. We need to keep each other grounded here. Hand,” he says, reaching out again, and Castiel grasps his hand, the contact warm and tingling. 

Cas turns to look towards the crypt, just as a tall woman walks out of it. Just casually strolls out in a long dress reminiscent of the nineteenth century. She looks around, then dissipates into the mist. Cas feels something brush past him again with a weird kind of whining noise, and he shivers. “What the hell…?” he asks, his voice coming out shaky.

“Yeah, some souls are already escaping. We’ve got to set up the barrier to keep them in.” Dean reaches out his free hand in the direction of one of his friends, and Cas can see all of them around the circle doing the same—standing evenly spaced, hands outstretched on either side. 

Feeling like some kind of fool, Cas extends his hand out to his side the same way that Dean has, and instantly feels a link snap into place. A current is running up his arm, from his hand all the way across his shoulders and down into where he holds Dean’s hand. What did Dean call it? The barrier? Was this going to keep something in?

Whatever it was clearly wasn’t quite working yet, because more people start appearing from inside the crypt, in various types of appearance and dress, and flying off in every direction. He feels more of the ghosts—or whatever they are—fly past him, making him shudder, but he holds tight to Dean’s hand and watches as the light within the crypt grows brighter.

He doesn't know these people—only has a passing acquaintance with Benny—but he feels connected to them in a way that he's never had with anyone. He can feel whatever power they've called up running right across him from hand to hand, and a strange, buzzing warmth where his hand meets Dean's. 

A rumbling starts up, along with a sound that chills Cas to the bone—a wailing, eerie cry that twists in his gut, terrifying, but desperately sad. He stumbles, sure his knees are about to give out, but Dean yanks him upright and shouts, "Hold the line, Cas!" Cas turns to Dean and sees tears running down his face, and when he wipes his own face on his shoulder he realizes it's also wet. 

The wailing grows in intensity as more apparitions blow past him, and he's sure he's about to collapse from a squeezing in his chest, when he sees the older man in their circle break the magical line. He walks forward, his mouth moving but the words lost in the din. Cas is aware of the magical energy around the circle rushing into the man, and he brings his hands together in an echoing _clap_. 

The light in the crypt goes out. 

The cemetery falls silent. 

Cas collapses to his knees, then topples over onto the cold grass. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How're we all doing? Drop me a comment—I'd love to hear from you.
> 
> Next chapter: Cas meets the Coven and gets some questions answered. If you'd like to tell me what questions you'd like answered, I'm all ears! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, lovely readers!

Noises buzz around Cas. Dean's voice, saying, "Cas? Come on buddy, over you go," as he's rolled onto his back on the grass, then other voices asking if he's okay. 

"What happened, Dean? Didn't you guys keep the volume down?" 

Cas tries to work out who's speaking, but the world seems to be spinning around him.

"He's a novice. He has no idea what we're doing, and I'm sorry, but I'm kinda out of practice!" 

"Why didn't you say so before, ya idjit!" 

"I tried!" Dean continues, softer now. "Look, he's fried. Let me get him home, get some rest. I'll bring him to you guys tomorrow, okay?" 

As Cas is helped to his feet and stumbles along, supported on either side, it's as though he's viewing the world through deep water, or slogging through mud. 

He slumps down into a car seat, and when Dean gets into the driver's side, Cas tries to ask him, "Wha…what?"

"It’s okay, Cas," Dean says, slapping him lightly on the chest. "You're fine. It's just the kickback from the magical charge. You'll be fine in the morning."

He starts the car, and Cas slumps against the window. 

-x-

_Crash_.

Cas jerks awake, looking around in a half-asleep panic. His bedroom. He's lying under the covers, in only his underwear. 

His phone is sitting on its charger in his nightstand, showing nine AM. Crap, he's late for work. 

A clatter elsewhere in his apartment makes him sit up and look towards the door, where he can also hear some discordant humming and a sizzling noise. 

The events of yesterday filter back to him in chunks. The lightning—the cemetery—_Dean_. Had Dean brought him back here? Put him to bed? _Undressed_ him? The thought brings warmth to his cheeks. 

He rubs at his face, hoping that the headache behind his eyes isn't going to linger all day. He's got to get to work—there's a lot to get through today. But first, evicting the (admittedly hot) shapeshifter with no sense of personal boundaries from his life. 

He clambers out of bed, throws on a pair of chinos and a blue button-down and detours via the bathroom on his way to see what's going on in the kitchen. At least the heating still seems to be functional, even if the lights all exploded last night. He notices the kitchen seems to be lit up, though, as he walks towards the door. An amazing smell is filtering down the hall. 

As Castiel reaches the kitchen doorway he pauses, taking in Dean humming to himself as he stands in front of the stove, something sizzling in a pan in front of him. 

"Hello, Dean," Cas says. 

Dean turns with a wide grin. "Hey! There he is. How're you feeling? Hope you're hungry."

"I—" he begins, slightly distracted by the way Dean's smile lights up his whole face. When he tears his gaze away, he takes in the bacon, the scrambled eggs, the two mugs of coffee. The smell makes his mouth water, but he shakes his head. "Thank you, but I'm running late."

Dean's smile falters. "Late? Where you off to?" 

"Work? It's Friday." There's an open box of light bulbs on the counter beside the food, along with a box of acetaminophen. 

Dean huffs out a short laugh. "Nah, man, call off. I've gotta take you to see Bobby." He turns back to the stove, flipping pieces of bacon like some kind of chef. 

Cas stares at him. He's still wearing Cas' jeans and t-shirt from last night. Had he stayed the whole night? "Uh, no, sorry. I can't just head off to see some random stranger."

"Not a stranger—you met him last night."

Cas blinks at him, confused. "What?" 

"Bobby. In the cemetery, remember? Look, he knows more than anyone about being a witch, so if you wanna learn some stuff, he's your guy." Dean gestures to the clothes he's wearing while Cas stands there, speechless. "Plus, he's kinda got all my stuff, so…I really need to go see him, too." 

Castiel isn't sure what to make of all this. He can feel the panic clawing back up his throat, so he attempted to channel it into anger instead of a scream. "Look, Dean, I appreciate you bringing me back home. I'm willing to allow the fact that you took off my clothes—" 

Dean glances over at him with wide eyes at that, and color touches his cheeks as he puts his hands up defensively. "Hey, you did that all yourself." 

"—whatever," Cas continues. "And thanks for the, uh, the breakfast." He winces as he realizes how much of an asshole he's about to sound. "But I can't take you anywhere today. I have a load of work to do and I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

"Can't do that, buddy," Dean lifts the bacon off the pan and arranges it on two plates. 

Castiel stares at the plate Dean hands him. The momentary feeling of control of the situation is slipping away again. And he's starting to feel like a broken record with his disbelief. 

"I can't ask you to leave? Sorry, last I checked this was my house, and you came in uninvited."

Dean starts to sound exasperated again. "Actually no, you _did_ invite me in—we've been over this. You've only just quickened. That means you need me." Dean sits down at Cas' dining table, cutlery in hand. "You're stuck with me, at least until you learn to ground yourself." He tucks into his bacon, oblivious to Cas' glaring. 

"And if I refuse?" Castiel asks, scowling. He's damned if he's going to stand by while some magical bullshit takes over his life.

Dean looks up to stare at him, chewing his bacon. He speaks around his mouthful. "You're a witch, Cas. Refusing ain't an option."

Cas steps forward to drop the plate on the table, looming towards Dean. "So what, I'm just supposed to stop everything and go with you to Hogwarts? Is that it?" 

Dean snorts, without mirth. "Dude, Bobby's place is no castle. You won't have to drop anything. There's no big magical underworld society, Cas. You can go back to your cushy job and your girlfriend or whatever. You've just gotta learn how to control your magic, or you'll burn out. And I'm told that ain't pretty."

Dean goes back to his breakfast, leaving Cas to stare at his own while he considers Dean’s words. Whatever he had witnessed last night had been real, and scary, and there's no denying that the man sitting in his kitchen isn't quite human. It’d be kind of cool, if he didn’t feel like his life as he knew it is slipping out of his grasp.

But if this is going to start happening to him on a regular basis, perhaps he should find out some more about it. He just resents being forced into anything, and he hasn't asked for any of this.

He sighs heavily. 

"I don't have a girlfriend," he mutters as he picks up his fork and bites into a mouthful of eggs. 

He pretends not to see Dean smirk into his coffee mug. 

-x-

Bobby's place is certainly no castle. As they pull up next to the RV, Cas stares at the rust-stained sides and the bombed-out truck parked near the front. 

"Here he is," Dean says, unbuckling his seatbelt. "He's way further in than usual."

They've just spent close to an hour driving along a dirt road through a forest, stopping for a break only so that Dean could call Bobby to make sure they were going the right way. The RV is parked off the side of the track, nestled into the trees enough that if Dean hadn't yelled out and Cas slammed on the brakes in alarm, they might have driven right past it. 

Dean gets out of the car and heads off, leaving Cas behind. He pats the dash of the Prius gently. "Sorry, girl." Hopefully she'll have enough charge to get back home. 

He follows Dean warily. The RV is barely holding together, a shabby, old-style box that looks like it’s been here for years. Grass and understory shrubs have grown up around it, helping to shield it from the track, and Cas wonders if they had a bit of magical help to grow so perfectly.

The woods around here are silent, dark, a heavy chill lying around the base of tall pine trees.

The RV crouches in its hidey-hole, similarly quiet. No breeze stirs the pine needles underfoot, and the occasional far-off bird sounds are muffled, as though this part of the forest is holding its breath. Cas is barely breathing himself.

If this Bobby’s at home, he must be asleep, or perhaps hard of hearing.

Dean raps on the door, making it rattle in its frame. A trailing vine has wound itself along the front face, around the doorway. _Nice touch_, Cas thinks as they approach. Butterflies start up a fluttering in his stomach—he’s about to find out exactly what it is he’s becoming, and the idea suddenly makes him want to turn around and head back to his car, away from all this.

Before he can move, though, the door cracks open and the older man from the graveyard the other night appears, looking gruff and uncertain.

Dean beams at him. “Bobby! It’s good to see you. I—”

He’s cut off by Bobby throwing a splash of water into his face from a silver flask. 

Dean stands there for a moment, water running in rivulets down his face. Cas is sure he would laugh, if he wasn’t stuck in the middle of a dark forest with people he’s not sure aren’t raving lunatics.

“It’s me, Bobby. I’m not a demon,” Dean says, finally wiping a hand down his face.

Bobby shrugs one shoulder. “Can’t be too careful. Come ‘ere, boy.” Bobby steps down from the RV and grabs Dean into a hug, and they slap each other on the back while Cas looks on. Just who are these people to each other? 

Bobby steps back, and his eyes turn to Cas.

Dean says, “Bobby, this is Cas. Cas, Bobby Singer, leader of our coven.”

“Pleased to meetcha properly,” Bobby says seriously, taking Cas’ hand and peering into his face. Cas feels oddly exposed, like Bobby is seeing right through him.

“Likewise,” he says. What else can he say? _I hear you’re a witch_, or perhaps, _So, tell me why I can shoot lightning from my hands?_

Bobby saves him the trouble. “Welcome to the coven. I hope Dean knows what he’s doing.” He turns as Dean scoffs. “Come on,” he continues. “The others ain’t here yet but I don’t think they’ll be far off.”

“Um, you sure there’s room for all of us in there?” Cas asks, eyeing the old RV again. It’s going to be cozy with three grown men in there, let alone more people. 

Bobby shares a glance with Dean, raising his eyebrows. 

Dean chuckles and turns to Cas, nodding his head towards the door as Bobby steps back up into the van. “Go on, you’ll see.”

Cas pushes down his skepticism as he follows Dean, then his jaw drops as he steps up into the RV’s door. The inside is a room.

No—he realizes as he looks around and sees other rooms through doors to his left and right—this is the entry to a house. The living room to his right is filled with books piled onto floor-to-ceiling shelves, and a large desk covered in more papers and books sits in the middle of the floor, along with comfortable looking armchairs next to a fireplace.

What the actual hell…? 

He steps back, out of the RV. The room disappears. All he can see through the door is dark shadows, perhaps outlines of cabinets. He looks around—he’s definitely back in the forest, and perfectly alone. He shakes his head, not believing his eyes. 

The looming pine trees suddenly feel oppressive, and he quickly steps back up into the RV-slash-house to see Dean waiting for him, an indulgent and slightly annoyingly smug smirk on his face. Bobby must have gone into another room.

“You okay, Cas? Not about to freak out on us, are you?” Dean asks, the smirk firmly in place. 

The comment allows Cas to swallow down the freak-out he was certainly not about to have, and instead he rolls his eyes and steps forward to the door into the living room. “What is this place? Some kind of TARDIS?” He's thankful his voice doesn't sound as shaky as he feels. 

Dean barks a laugh. “No, Bobby's no Time Lord. It’s just a relocation spell. A powerful one, but Bobby’s the best.”

“He can fit a whole house inside an RV—he must be good.”

“Oh no,” Dean says, “This is his actual house. It’s in South Dakota, near Sioux Falls. We’ve just teleported.”

“I like to have the books handy,” Bobby says, coming back into the room with mugs in his hands. He hands one mug to Dean, asking him, “What does he know?”

“Nothing,” Dean says, as Bobby crosses the room to where Cas still hovers awkwardly by the door. 

He hands the other mug over, then indicates one of the armchairs. “Completely green, huh? Have a seat. We might be a while.”

Cas thanks him for the coffee, the mug warming his hands as he sits in one of the plush armchairs. 

Dean perches on the edge of the desk, sipping his coffee. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed coffee,” he says, a serene smile on his face.

Bobby snorts as he takes the other armchair. He sits back, staring at Cas. 

After what seems like a long, uncomfortable minute, Castiel can’t bear it any longer. “Look, I’m not really sure what I’m doing here. Dean said you might have answers for me, so if you could just tell me what last night was all about, I’ll leave you guys to it.”

Bobby asks, “How old are you, son?” 

Cas eyes him dubiously. “I’m twenty-nine. What’s that got to do with—” 

“You ever seen any weird stuff before now? That might have been magic?” Bobby interrupts, sounding like he’s uninterested in the answer. “Prophetic dreams, flickery lights, fire, lightning?” he asks, wiggling his fingers in the air, much like Dean had done last night.

“I—I don’t think so?” Cas says. Surely he would have remembered something like that. The lights in his apartment did occasionally flicker, but he’d just put that down to his dodgy old building. 

Bobby turns to Dean, raising one eyebrow. “You sure this is your guy?” he asks.

“We’re here, aren’t we?” Dean asks.

Cas tries again, “Dean says he’s a familiar, and I’m a witch. What does that actually mean?”

“Okay,” Bobby says, then takes a deep breath and blows it out. “Here’s the deal. Our coven is one of the oldest in the country, from the earliest days of settlement around here. There must have been some local people round here before that, looking after the place, but when those settlers moved west…guess they brought diseases and genocide with them. Any case, you ever heard ‘a lay lines?”

Cas blinks at the sudden change of subject. “Um, sure. Energy lines that cross the country? Isn’t it just all some new-age hippy stuff?” 

Bobby exchanges another look with Dean. “No,” he says. “They converge. Here, at Stull. At certain times of year, the veil between worlds gets thin. That’s when the gate opens, and lets the demons though.” 

Cas would laugh, if he hadn't seen them himself last night. Not up close, but he'd felt them flying by him as they escaped the gate. "Demons?" he asks, an icy dread pooling in his stomach. 

“Our job,” Bobby continues, “is to hold the gate closed, make sure nothing big gets out. It’s happened before, when our numbers were down, and each time a lot of people have died before we got things back in hand. But last night we had enough, thanks to you and Dean.” 

A memory surfaces from the cemetery, which makes Cas shudder. He asks, "The awful crying noise, just before you closed the gate—what was that? It made me feel…" he trails off, a shiver crossing his skin. 

"Uh huh." Bobby nods, his eyes moving between Cas and Dean. "I haven't seen one for a good many years, so I've been checking my lore this morning, but I'd say it was a mavka—a spirit of a young woman who died before her time. That feeling you got was some kinda fucked-up spell they put on you, to make you remember those…those you've lost." He looks down, sadness twisting his face. 

"Anyone home?" A voice sounds from the front doorway, making the three of them look over. 

Dean's tall brother appears in the doorway, and as he glances around at the somber faces in the living room, another face appears behind him—a much shorter young woman with long, dark hair. 

"Hey," Sam says. "Y'all okay?" 

"Better now, Sammy," Dean says, standing to cross the room and pull his brother into a hug. 

The girl smiles at Cas and Bobby, who both stand up as well. 

Dean steps back from Sam, turning to the girl. "I'm sorry," Dean says to her, "We didn't get time for introductions last night. I'm Dean."

The girl shakes his hand, saying, "I'm Eileen. Sam's my witch." She signs with her hands as she speaks. 

"Oh! A familiar? Pleased to meet ya." Dean gestures behind him, towards Cas. "This is my witch, Cas."

Cas flinches at the _my witch_, but nods and smiles towards Eileen. 

"C'm'ere," Bobby says, stepping forward to wrap her in a hug. "Come on," he adds, signing as he speaks. "Help me get some food together while we leave these boys to chit chat?" 

As they leave the room, Sam reaches out his hand to shake Cas'. "Hey. How're you doing after last night? You took it all pretty hard."

Before Cas can answer, Dean says, "I told you he'd be fine, and he is." Cas turns to glare at him, but he keeps talking. "So how long have you been with Eileen, there? You did all right, huh?" He waggles his eyebrows in a way that makes Cas wince. 

Sam also seems embarrassed. "Sorry about my brother," he says to Cas as they sit back down in the armchairs, Dean perching on the edge of Bobby's desk. Sam throws Dean a look Cas can only describe as a bitch face. "Seems a few years as a cat hasn't made him any less inappropriate." 

"Yeah, you know it," Dean agrees, grinning. 

"I'm fine, thanks, although still very confused," Cas finally replies, ignoring Dean. 

"I'm sure," Sam agrees. "What would you like to know?" 

Cas considers whether _everything_ would be an acceptable response, but settles for, "So Eileen's your familiar?" 

Sam nods. "She found me about a year ago, now. Scared the hell outta me while I was busy trying not to set everything on fire and a big owl flew right into the middle of it." He smiles fondly. 

"She's an owl? Awesome!" Dean says. 

"Yeah, she is," Sam agrees, pink appearing in his cheeks.

"So, are you two really brothers?"

The way both men protest that question reinforced that they are in fact related, their incredulous looks mirrored. He hurries to explain, "It's just that Sam's a witch, and you're a familiar, Dean. I thought he might have also been a familiar." 

"No, that's not how it…jeez, I keep forgetting how little you know." Dean shakes his head. 

Cas has to fight down a compulsion to apologize, even sarcastically. It's not his fault if he's just been dragged into this whole thing for the first time. 

Sam seems to pick up on his frustration, because he silences his brother with a flat, "Dean." He turns to Cas and continues, "People with magical sensitivity find out pretty early if they're a familiar. Usually they're drawn to a particular animal, or accidentally shift in their sleep like Dean did."

"Yeah, while I was at my girlfriend Cassie's place. I think my hearing is still busted from her screaming," Dean says, rubbing at his ear. 

Sam chuckles. "When he turned twenty-one, he was part of the coming of age ritual—where familiars change into their shifted form and head out into the world to find their witch. Sometimes their witch is close by, like it happened with me and Eileen. Other times…" He trails off, looking at Dean. 

Castiel also looks at Dean, who is looking down at the coffee mug in his hands. “How long were you—?”

“I’m twenty-six,” Dean says. 

There's a commotion near the door again, and Sam jumps up to see who's arrived. 

Castiel looks back at Dean to see him watching him now, oddly vulnerable. While noisy greetings were being exchanged by the door, he asks quietly, “You were looking for me all that time?”

“What? Hell, no. Being a cat is awesome, man! I got into fights, met a bunch of ladies, plenty of people are willing to feed stray cats. I was fine.” Dean's flippancy is still annoying, but Cas has a feeling those five years may have been long and lonely. 

Bobby appears near the door as well, as the new arrivals enter the room. "Pam!" he calls, wrapping another dark-haired woman in his arms. He shakes hands with the man behind her as she comes into the living room, looking towards where Dean and Cas are sitting. 

"Who's this? Did I hear that my little Deano was back in town?" she asks. 

Dean gets to his feet and walks forward to meet her, his face flushed. "Hey, Pam," he says, then flinches as she smacks her palm on his butt. 

"Hey, handsome. Ooh, your magic is different." 

As Pam turns her eyes to Cas, he sees that they're a milky white all over—but Pam moves towards him like she can see him clearly. "Hi. I'm Pamela."

Castiel takes her offered hand, shaking it. "Castiel."

Pam's face lights up with a wide smile, and she turns to grin at Bobby over her shoulder without letting go of Cas' hand. She turns back to Cas. "Welcome, Castiel Novak. We've been expecting you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, let me hear your thoughts and theories! 
> 
> Wouldn't you like to transport a portal to your own house around when camping? I just got back from a camping trip, and believe me, I am happy to back in my own bed xD
> 
> Next chapter: Some more coven revelations, and Cas tries to adjust to his life as a witch. Results may vary.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, fair readers! I know, it's been quite some time since the last chapter of this story—life was just all overwhelming there for a bit. To top it all off, I recently lost one of my own kitties, so updating this particular story didn't feel quite so attractive for a little while. Sorry about that. But I'm hoping to get back into regular posting now. 
> 
> To sum up what happened in the previous chapters, The Road So Far, if you will:  
Castiel is surprised when a black cat he met at a festival with his friend Charlie shows up on his doorstep. On Halloween, strange things start happening to Cas, electrical failures, telekinesis. He starts throwing out lightning and suddenly the cat turns into a naked man in his apartment. Turns out, Cas is a witch. They go to Stull Cemetery and help to hold the gate of hell closed with the rest of Dean's coven, but not before a bunch of demons escape. Dean is Castiel's familiar, and he takes him to his coven leader Bobby's RV, which teleports them to his house, where Cas is now meeting other members of the coven and learning a few things about witches and familiars. Pam arrives, and tells Castiel they've been expecting him...

Castiel stares at Pam, wide-eyed, then glances at Bobby standing behind her. The coven leader is stoic, expressionless. 

"Uh…you have?" he asks, at a loss for how to respond to such a claim. How could any of them have been expecting him? And how the hell does she know his name?

"We have?" Dean echoes, and when Cas turns to look at him, he's casting a questioning look at Sam. 

Pam's grin doesn't fall as she nods gently. She says, with all the authority of a proclamation, "What's a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?"

The tension breaks, and everyone begins talking and moving at once. Sam runs to fetch Pam a drink, while Bobby tells her that there's an armchair just behind her. She sinks into it, her face still turned towards Cas. 

He shifts in place uncomfortably, not sure whether he wants to stick around to see what this intimidating woman has to say, but abruptly he has no choice. Dean walks over, putting his hand on Cas' shoulder and pushing him down into the chair. 

Dean resumes his perch on the edge of the desk, shoving the pile of books and papers over to make more room for himself. "All right, spill. You've had a vision? Of him?" he asks, pointing at Cas. 

Cas glances back to Pam. Visions, now? What are these witches going to do next, dance around a cauldron? Sacrifice a goat? 

"Sure did, sweet cheeks," Pam says, tossing back her long brown hair. Her tight black t-shirt reads "Rocky's Bar" across the front, and Cas quickly averts his eyes when he realized he's been staring at her. 

"Like what you see?" Pam asks with a smirk. 

Cas can feel his cheeks heating, and he’s about to make some kind of an apology when Dean steps in.

"Stop teasing him, Pam. He's new. Come on, what's the story?" 

Ignoring Dean's questions, Pam looks up as Sam comes over, saying "Sam, honey. How've you been?" before he even says anything. 

Sam presses a glass of something amber into her hand, saying, "Whiskey. And I'm fine, thanks. Where's Ash?" 

"Oh, he'll be along. Just out in the woods somewhere I think." She turns back to Cas, leaning forward on her chair to peer at him. Can she see him after all? Her gaze is completely unnerving, so he glances at Dean instead. 

Dean takes in his expression, then says, "She's reading your aura."

"I am!" Pam says, delightedly. "I may not be able to see your pretty face, but I can see your magic, and it's bee-utiful! Dean, you keep a hold 'a this one, you hear?" 

Dean snorts, but doesn't comment. 

Castiel has so many questions, but he doesn't feel comfortable asking any of them. He settles for, "You…you can see my magic?" 

"Well, 'see' isn't quite the right word for it. More like sense it, I guess," Pam explains. "But I'm sure you're him. I saw our next coven leader in a vision, and you're it, sweetheart."

Cas says, "What?" just as Dean says, "No!" but the rest of the room stays silent, serious. 

Dean demands, "You all knew?" At the uncomfortable silence around the room, he continues, "What exactly did you see?" 

"I saw you as well, don't you worry. You know I can't reveal all of it, in fact I only remember fragments, but at some time, Bobby is going to be…out of action, and a leader will step up."

Cas huffs an incredulous laugh. "Look, I only found out I was a witch yesterday. I can't possibly be…whatever you saw."

"I saw you," Pam says heavily. "No doubt. The fates do not lie."

Cas stands up abruptly. He needs to get away from these people. Speaking quietly and trying not to seem too hostile, he says through gritted teeth, “I'm sorry, but I don’t want to be your next leader. I don’t want to be a witch, and I certainly don’t need a familiar—” He gestures towards Dean without looking at him. “—or a roommate. I just want to go home, alone, and sleep until I wake up from this hallucination.”

Dean gets to his feet now, muttering something that sounds like “Seriously?” 

Castiel glances at him finally, unprepared for the fury on his face. 

“Look, _Castiel_,” Dean spits out, “you think any of us wanted to be here? We were _born _into this life, and there’s no way out of it. This world needs us, and you’re just gonna turn your back on it?”

Cas gapes at him, not sure how to reply. He looks around to the others in the room, all standing or sitting and frowning at him. The fluttery feeling is back in his throat, and he tries to swallow it down. "I…I can't save the world, Dean. I'm nobody. I just work in an office. I wouldn’t even know where to start."

Dean shakes his head, sneering, then turns and leaves the room with a disgusted sort of sigh. 

Bobby leaves after him, and Cas’ heart sinks further. These people…they expect him to drink their kool-aid, just like that? He turns, walking over to one of the bookshelves, his throat tight. He rubs at his face, wondering how he’s managed to end up feeling like a shitty person, considering what he's been through the last couple of days. He needs to get out of here.

But when he turns to try to leave, Sam is standing behind him, his forehead creased. “Hey, Cas.” Cas stops short, unsure as to whether Sam is mad with him, but he continues calmly. “Look, I’m sorry about Dean, okay. He can be a little...intense when he’s upset.’

Cas huffs. Intense was one word for it, he supposes. “I’m sorry, Sam. I really am, but I think I should go.”

“No, Cas, you can’t.” Sam spoke quietly, casting his eyes back to where Eileen had moved over to speak to Pam. He looks back towards Cas, his hazel eyes serious. "The first few days are rough, even if you know it's coming, like I did. Dean can help you with it. Just give him a chance, okay?" 

Cas stares at Sam. “What...what is coming, exactly?”

Sam grimaces. “You’re going to lose control. Probably a lot. Familiars help to channel magic from the world around us. Without Dean there, you could start wrecking stuff.”

“I’ll be fine,” Cas retorts, shaking his head, but Sam continues.

“You make lightning? Electrical stuff fritzes out around you? I can’t imagine what this must have been like for this to come out of the blue for you, but...you need to focus, to learn how to handle it. Otherwise…” He trails off, shaking his head.

Cas is about to ask him what exactly could happen, but Pam speaks up from her seat.

“Witches need their familiars, sure. But familiars also need their witches to ground them.” Cas eyed her as she spoke, then glanced back towards Sam, just as Pam continued. “At least stick with Dean for a day or two, see what happens. If you’re not convinced by then, no one would blame you if you asked him to leave.”

A flash of surprise crosses Sam’s face at that, but Cas takes a deep breath. He supposes he really doesn’t have a choice in this. “Okay, I just...” he says, stepping over towards Bobby’s desk and slumping into the office chair behind it. “...I just need a moment.”

Sam backs off, he and Eileen leaving the room together. Cas covers his face with his hands, wondering if there’s anything left to fuck up around here, when a clinking sound reminds him that Pam is still sitting in the room, nursing her whiskey. 

A small dog, some kind of scruffy terrier-looking thing, trots into the room, coming to a stop near where Pam sits. 

“There you are,” Pam says fondly.

The dog stares at her for a few moments, head cocked, then turns to look at Cas. As Pam watches, smiling, the dog jumps up onto the desk into the clear space Dean had been sitting in earlier. It steps over the piles of paper and books, most of which Cas now sees are relating to demons, books named _Creatures of Eldritch_ and _The 1856 Almanacke_. The dog sits daintily on top of a closed notebook near Cas, and watches him quietly.

Cas gives the dog a sad sort of smile and reaches up to let it sniff at his hand before he tries to pat it. Its fur, despite looking uneven and a dirty sort of brown, is surprisingly soft, and Cas scratches behind its ears. The dog gives a contented wuff, and leans into Cas’ petting.

Feeling for the side table next to her before she places her glass on it, Pam says, “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Everyone starts out rough, even those like Sam who grew up with it. Dean’s been waiting a long time to find you. He’s ready for this, and so are you.” 

Cas doesn't know how to tell her that she couldn’t be more wrong, but the dog flops over just then, presenting its furry belly to him. 

“He likes belly rubs,” Pam says, grinning.

Cas rubs at the soft fur, his mind lost in the idea that he has no choice but to rely on Dean to get him through the next few days. He tries to put it all out of his mind, instead asking, “Is he your dog?” 

Pam chuckles lightly. “In a manner of speaking, although he’d probably say I’m his.”

Cas pulls his hand back, suddenly horrified. “He’s…he’s your…?”

The dog huffs, getting back to his feet and jumping gracefully to the floor. In a strange echo of the way Dean had transformed from cat to human, the dog grows in size, pulling himself upright into a man of moderate height, dressed in jeans and a faded shirt. His brown hair falls into an untidy mullet, the ends flicking out at the back. 

The man shakes himself, then grins and holds out a hand to Cas. “Hey, man. I’m Ash,” he says.

Cas picks up his jaw and recovers long enough to shake Ash’s hand. The man has a firm grip, and the touch reminds Cas that he’d just been rubbing this man’s belly a few moments earlier. “Uh, I’m Cas,” he replies, not sure where to look.

Pam bursts out laughing. “I’m sorry!” she chokes out. “I just...your reaction! I should have told you, I’m sorry, Cas.”

Cas is sure his face must be flaming red, but he can’t help but huff a laugh as Ash rolls his eyes. “Sorry about her. You looked like you needed a bit of comforting, and that’s kinda my speciality.”

Bobby appears in the doorway. “Grub’s up,” the old man says. "Ash, Pam, come to the table, wouldja?”

“Sure thing, boss.” Ash helps Pam to her feet and they leave the room.

Bobby’s gaze turns to Cas, his eyes hard. “Come eat. You’ll need your strength. I made a pot roast." He leaves again, following the others down the hall before Cas can reply.

Cas stays sitting, weighing his options. He could just leave now, go back out into the forest and find his way home, alone. But what they’d all said about what the next few days might bring worries him. Whatever’s happening to him means he’s going to be dragged into this world and these people are going to be part of it, no matter how hard he resists. 

He sighs. Might as well try to get to know them a little. _And_, he thinks, making a mental note, _be wary of animals that might actually be familiars_. 

He smells the lunch before he enters the room, delicious roast meat and vegetables, garlic and rosemary. The kitchen is simple, nothing fancy, but there's a long table set in the center of the room filled with dishes and plates and glasses. 

Cas takes a seat next to Pam, across the table from Dean, who looks up as Cas sits down with something like surprise, but turns away, his brows drawn. Cas feels a stab of hurt at his dismissal…but fine, if he wants to be like that, Cas can deal with it. 

He politely loads his plate with the food he's offered and tells Pam as little as possible about his tech writing job. Sam sits on his other side, so Cas takes the opportunity as they eat to ask him about the coven. 

"Yeah, this is most of us," Sam says, pausing to lean over and raise his hands, palm up. Cas feels a shiver in the air, and he can't help but gasp a little as the dish of roast potatoes lifts off the table and floats towards him. Sam catches it, picking up the serving spoon to load his plate. Ignoring Cas' dropped jaw, he continues, "There are a few others, though. Benny—he's the big guy who was at the cemetery last night? He works on Saturdays." 

"In the Anderson building, right? I work there as well," Cas says, still not quite believing Benny is involved in all this. He shakes his head as Sam offers the potato dish to him, so he passes it to Dean instead. 

"Actually, Benny has been keeping an eye on Castiel here for a little while now." 

Everyone turns to stare at Bobby. The coven leader is finally sitting down on Pam's other side now that he's finished making sure everyone has enough to eat. 

"What?" he says, looking around the table. "Benny and Andrea keep tabs on magic levels around here. He's been spiking the readings." He nods towards Cas. 

Eating resumes around the table, and after a little while Cas asks Sam, "Andrea?" 

"Benny's witch, yeah. We don't often see her. There's also Max and Alicia. They're twins, but they live in Kansas City. Not sure what they're up to today."

"Probably no good," Pam says, grinning. 

Sam huffs. "Yeah, we probably won't see them until winter solstice, now." 

Winter solstice? Cas wonders if that will be the next time the gate will open. 

Dean finally speaks up from across the table, his hard eyes on Cas. "He probably won't get to meet them, then, since he wants out." He jolts in his seat as he gets kicked under the table, and shifts to glare at Sam. 

"He'll meet them," Sam says firmly. "You'll like them, Cas. They're great."

Cas nods, smiling weakly, but stays quiet and eyes Dean warily. The next few days are going to be so much fun. 

-x-

The ride home is quiet. Cas has no idea what Dean is thinking about as he stares out the window, and he's not game to ask. By the time they get back into Lawrence, night has fallen.

Their lunch had been pleasant enough, with the good-natured banter and teasing between any group of family or friends who've known each other for long enough, even if it had been a little strained today. The food had been particularly good, and while Cas is glad they stayed for that, he's less enthusiastic about the outright hostility he’s been feeling from Dean over the last few hours.

His skin is crawling again, and while he hasn't seen any sparking electrical charge on his skin like there had been last night, he has a feeling that it's going to be there once night falls. 

Bobby had said goodbye to them, extracting a promise out of Dean that he'd keep his eyes peeled and his ears pricked, and to be ready for anything, with an ominous glance at Cas. That hadn't helped put Castiel at ease, but at least the old man had clasped him on the shoulder and welcomed him to the coven. He left feeling a little like he'd just met his boyfriend's family for the first time. 

He'd been sure that if he could just get through this weekend, maybe he could go back to work on Monday and everything would be fine—normal, even. But as they’d got closer to home, that resolve had eroded, until now he’s almost shaking with the feeling that something is about to burst out of him. 

He tries hard to keep his breathing under control, until Dean actually turns to him, saying, “Dude, are you okay?”

Cas finally pulls into his street and rubs his hand over his face. “I’m fine,” he says shortly, and Dean huffs and stares back out the window as Cas parks. They sit in the quiet car for a moment, Cas trying to work out how to voice his thoughts. 

“I’m sorry about what I said back there, Dean,” he tries, but Dean just laughs shortly and opens the door, slamming it behind him.

Cas sighs, his frustration building along his spine and shoulders. The interior of the car lights up as the charge dissipates along the outside of his jacket. He needs to get inside, and fast. 

Thankfully the street is deserted as he gets out and locks the car, then fumbles with his keys to open his apartment door. Dean enters behind him with a duffel bag containing some of his stuff—apparently he never had much to begin with, which Cas can’t help feeling a little stab of pity for—but there’s a little more to come, including a car that eventually he’ll have to go to Sioux Falls to retrieve. For now, he’s changed out of Cas’ jeans and shirt, and replaced them with a pair that only fit marginally better. 

Cas closes and locks the door behind them, as Dean turns around to face him in the middle of the carpet. 

“Look,” he says, eyebrows drawn and voice tight. “I’ll stay until you’ve learned to control your magic and ground yourself. After that I’ll get out of your hair, and you’ll only see me if there’s demons to gank, okay?”

Cas is about to apologize again, but stops short. “Demons to what?”

“To gank—to kill. To send back into their infernal pit, or whatever. What, you thought those critters that got out of the gate the other night would just disappear?”

Cas shivers as he remembers the creatures flying past them on every side last night. _Demons_. “Where are they?” he asks, his voice more wobbly than he would have liked. 

Dean’s voice is more even now. “They’ll have found hosts by now. Be causing trouble around the place. We need to hunt ‘em down. Send ‘em back to hell, like I said.” 

Castiel’s horror must be showing on his face, because Dean’s face softens a little. “Look, it’s the fastest way to learn how to control and use your magic, okay? Fight or flight. We’ll be fine.” Dean shifts his duffel to his other hand, glancing back over his shoulder towards the bedrooms. “Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s been quite a day. All right if I take the other bedroom? Or would you prefer I slept out here?”

Cas shakes his head. What is he doing? If Dean’s going to be staying here for any length of time, it’s only polite of him to make him comfortable, no matter their differences. “The bedroom’s all yours. I’ll bring you some fresh sheets.”

Dean nods his thanks and turns to head towards the guest bedroom, closing the door behind him. 

Cas looks around his living room, not sure what to do with himself. He’s screwed this whole thing up, and it’s only been a day. Only twenty-four hours since he sparked out in this room and fried the whole building. He looks down at his hands, to see the arcs of electricity back again, and the familiar prickling up his spine. It’s happening again—is this the loss of control that Sam was talking about?

A bubble of power threatens to burst through his body and out of him again, just like last night, but before it does, he finds Dean standing in front of him, grabbing his hands. “Dean?” he asks, trying to pull his hands away. He doesn’t want to burn him with the electrical charge strobing over his skin, but Dean grips him tightly.

“It’s okay, Cas. Let it flow. I’ve got you.” Dean plants his feet firmly on the floor in front of Cas. 

Cas is aware of the electrical charge running over the outside of Dean’s clothing now, rippling over his t-shirt. He feels the rising tide of energy through his feet and running along his limbs again, and lets it go with a hoarse cry. He feels it rushing through his hands into Dean, sees Dean’s eyes glowing blue-white while the roaring magical charge flows, but he holds firm. The light above their heads pops again and glass rains down just behind Dean’s back. His eyes fade back to normal and they are both plunged into darkness as the charge dissipates. 

Cas breathes out harshly, terrified. That had been worse than last night’s—this time he'd been sure his nerves were on fire. 

Dean steps back in the dark, releasing Cas’ hands, and a crunching noise under his foot is accompanied by a “Son of a bitch!” 

Cas hurries over to the kitchen light switches, turning them on to see Dean hopping on one bare, bloody foot. “Sit down, Dean. I’ll get the first aid kit.”

He tries to wipe at Dean’s foot with a damp tissue when he returns from the kitchen, but Dean waves him off. “Here, give me that. It’s not deep.”

Cas steps back, then stoops to pick up the broken glass from the rug. He returns again to the couch, sitting down beside Dean, not sure what to say. His head aches, and his hands tingle alarmingly, but the surge appears to have disappeared for now.

He settles on, “Thanks for helping me.”

Dean glances at him, then after a moment, says, “‘S nothing, man. It’s what I’m here for.”

“Is it likely to happen a lot?” Cas asks.

Dean unwraps a plaster and patches up the small cut on his heel. “Maybe? I haven’t seen quickening up close before, so I only know what I’ve been told about it, but I think it should start to calm down in a few days.”

“A few days?” Cas can still feel the power crackling beneath his skin. He won't be able to leave the house like this. 

“Yeah, it’ll be fine. We’ll order in and catch up on some TV.”

They sit quietly for a few moments, until Cas looks up at the broken shards of the lightbulb still hanging from the fixture above. “We’re going to need some more bulbs.” 

-x-

Sunday passes quietly for the most part, with few words between then and Cas doing his best to read while Dean starts his Netflix binge, "now that he has opposable thumbs again," he says. 

The next time Cas' magic overloads, he’s sitting on one end of the couch with Dean at the other end, playing on his phone. Dean grounds him again and it passes without frying any of Cas’ electricals, even if the TV flickers and fizzes alarmingly for a few minutes afterwards. They order sushi and try to ignore each other, for the most part, even though Dean makes the most distracting moaning sounds as he eats sushi for the first time in five years. 

“Seriously, Cas,” he says, sighing around a salmon-avocado roll, “tinned cat food is shit. Old tuna and lips and assholes of whatever’s leftover at the slaughterhouse. But fresh salmon? It’s to die for.” 

Cas wrinkles his nose, but passes Dean another roll. 

The third time Cas is in the kitchen and Dean has shifted into cat again, fast asleep on the couch. Cas nearly explodes before Dean wakes up enough to shift and grab him, and when it's over they both realize Dean is naked again. Dean spends the next few hours practicing shifting with his clothes. 

Cas spends the rest of the afternoon with a deep ache in his chest, and he's fairly sure it's not just from the magical surges. He's treated Dean badly, and the guy has been willing to hang around and help him through, despite that. 

The fourth surge is during the night, early on Monday morning. Cas wakes with a jolt to find the room illuminated in blue-white, and a black cat on his chest. _Felix_, he thinks, still half asleep, and moans as the magic burns through him once again. The last thing he sees before passing out again is the glow of two eyes close to his face. 

-x-

Cas' alarm wakes him from a deep sleep a few hours later, and he snoozes it twice before he actually realizes he's not alone in his bed. Dean is curled up in cat form behind his knees, sound asleep. Cas checks the time—he's late again, but there's a heavy lethargy pulling at his limbs, and a pounding in his head. 

He types an email on his phone, then drops it and goes back to sleep. 

-x-

When Cas wakes up again he feels marginally more alive. Dean is nowhere to be found, though. 

Cas visits the bathroom and gets dressed, and when he goes into the kitchen to see if there's anything to eat, he sees Dean-as-Felix curled up on the rug in a patch of sunlight. He smiles at the peaceful sight, until he remembers that Dean will be leaving, maybe even today. As much as he hates admitting it, it hasn't been that bad having someone else in the house. Maybe he could even get a real cat after Dean's gone, although the idea seems wrong. He frowns. 

He can still feel magic simmering under his skin, but it's settled now, muted. Maybe he is getting used to it, although he didn't feel like he was in control of anything last night. Calling in sick to work was the right decision. 

He's just sat down at the table with a bowl of cereal when there's a loud knock at the door. He looks up, confused, and Dean also lifts his furry head, blinking sleepily. 

"Probably just a charity doorknocker," he murmurs. "They'll go away."

Dean drops his head to his paws again, nonplussed. 

Just a few seconds later, a key starts turning in the lock, and Cas jumps to his feet. There's only one other person with a key to his apartment, and that's… 

"Hey, bitch!" Charlie opens the door, smiling when she sees Cas. "Hey, you don't look like you're on death's door to me! What gives?" 

"Charlie! What are you doing here?" he asks, pleased that his voice does come out rough to give him some credibility. 

She bustles in, shopping bags in hand. "What, a girl can't bring her sick bestie some chicken soup on her lunch break?" She dumps the bags on the coffee table, her eyes falling on Dean, who hasn't stirred. 

She gasps, and Cas' stomach plummets in horror. "Is this him? Felix?" she basically squeals as she descends on Dean, who lifts his head to peer grumpily at her, but sniffs delicately at her fingers before allowing her to scratch him between the ears. "Aw, he's so freaking cute!" she adds as he leans into her hand. "I thought you weren't keeping him?" 

Cas catches Dean giving him a side-eye. He clears his throat and says, "He doesn't seem to agree with that." 

Charlie coos at Dean for a few moments as Cas wonders urgently how he can get her out of here. He can't drag Charlie into this—especially when electricity is starting to spark between his fingers again. He just has to hold it together for a little longer, until she has to go back to work. He sits back down to eat the rest of his cereal. 

"Hey, did you get a new phone?" Charlie asks. 

Cas looks up, confused. "No…" he begins, then trails off as he sees Charlie with Dean's phone. His brain freezes unhelpfully. 

"Oh no, this is an old one, like an S7 or something, isn't it? These things are ancient."

_It belongs to this guy who's just spent years living as a cat, who, incidentally, you've just been petting_. Nope, that reply is out of the question, and gives him unpleasant flashbacks to Ash and his belly rubs. 

"It's not mine," he says, immediately cursing himself. 

"Whose is it, then? Oh god, Castiel," Charlie asked, her eyes wide. "Did you bring someone home on the weekend?" 

Dean made an odd little noise that could have been interpreted as a sneeze, but which Cas well knew was a laugh. The little fucker. 

He supposes, in a manner of speaking, she'd guessed right. But now he's hesitated too long and Charlie jumps up from the rug, rushing over to him. 

"You did, didn't you! Tell me everything! Where did you meet him? Does he live around here?" 

As Charlie rapid-fires her questions and Cas tries to deny everything, he notices Dean get up and saunter out of the room, tail high. 

Charlie is relentless. "Are you going to see him again? What's his name?"

She stops abruptly at a yawning sound from the bedroom door. Turning, her eyes still wide, she moves out of Cas' line of sight. _No, no no no. _

Dean stands there, rubbing at one eye, in a faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt and…nothing else. 

"Hi," he begins, but stops at Cas' mortified whisper. 

"Dean? Pants?" 

"Oh, right," Dean says, looking down and grimacing. "Sorry, haven't quite got the hang of… I'll just…" 

He disappears back into the bedroom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how do you think Charlie's going to react to this revelation? And do you know any animals who might secretly be familiars, trolling the hell out of you?
> 
> Next chapter: Charlie knows what's up (sort of), and Cas and Dean gank demons.
> 
> A couple of things before I go: The [Fandom Trumps Hate](https://t.co/2vOrpqmtAM?amp=1) and [Fandom For Australia](https://t.co/BAxWDZGQY2?amp=1) charity auctions are both on this week, so if you're interested in donating a bit of money towards some great causes in either the USA or Australia, you can bid for me to write you a story! I'm also offering beta services for one of my FTH auctions (although of course you're welcome to ask me for fic help at any other time too). Check out the links for more information before Feb 29.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Welcome back. I know it's been quite a while - turns out updating a WIP while [writing two](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23945641) [bang fics](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24020491) was a little ambitious, but I'm back now and hoping for a more regular sort of update cycle for these boys. 
> 
> A big thanks to all of you (and especially my trashcan babes) for loving this story and encouraging me to continue it. An especially big hug for [MandalaRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MandalaRose/pseuds/MandalaRose) for helping me to put this particular chapter in order <3 
> 
> **The Road So Far**  
Cas is a witch, a fact that he only just found out a week ago, at Halloween, when his familiar, Dean, transformed from cat into a human and dragged him off to Stull Cemetery to help close a hell gate. It's all really gone downhill from there, really. Dean took him to Bobby's RV which turned out to be a lot bigger on the inside, where he learned more about being a witch and where Pam dropped a bombshell that Cas was their coven's prophesied next leader. Cas still doesn't want any part of this, but he agreed to let Dean come home with him. His magic, only newly quickened, overloads a few times and Dean helps him through it for the first few days, but when Charlie comes over to make sure Cas is okay, she gets an eyeful of Cas' new roommate...

Charlie turns back to Cas, her jaw still dropped. She punches him in the shoulder. 

"Ow!" He rubs at it, frowning at her. 

She whisper-shouts through her grin, "You dog! You did bring someone home! When were you gonna tell me?" She adds in a more serious tone, "You know you don't have to hide that shit from me. I'm _happy_ for you!" 

"Charlie, I didn't 'bring him home', okay? We didn't hook up, or whatever. He's from out of town and just staying here for a few days." 

Charlie’s face takes on a look of disbelief. "Really? Then why is he hanging around in your apartment with _no pants on_, huh? And why is his phone out here? Have you been dating him? Without _telling me_?”

Cas shakes his head urgently. “Of course not, it’s not like that! I’m serious, he’s just staying here, we’re not—” 

He cuts off as Dean comes back into the room, now mercifully wearing jeans and rubbing a hand self-consciously at the back of his neck.

Castiel knows he needs to get Charlie out of here. Or at least separate them—he can’t get Charlie involved in this, partly because he knows she’d be way too into the supernatural stuff, and he can’t let her get hurt.

He steps forward, eyeing the shopping bag Charlie had placed on the table. “You said you brought soup, Charlie?” he asks, picking the bags up. “Dean? Come give me a hand?” He looks pointedly at Dean, trying to make it clear that he isn’t giving him a choice.

“Sure,” Dean says, following him into the kitchen. 

Cas drops the shopping bags on the counter, then rounds on Dean, quietly demanding, “What the hell was that?”

Dean puts up his hands, his eyes wide. “What? You were struggling, I thought you needed a bit of, y’know…help.”

“Help? Now she thinks we’re dating and I’ve been keeping you a secret!”

Dean opens his mouth, then closes it again. He says, “I mean, it’s not a bad alibi, we could've come up with worse.”

Cas stares at him in disbelief. “No, no. I am not taking part in some fake relationship. This…” he waves a finger between their faces. “We could never make this look real. Definitely not.” He stops talking, realizing how close they’re standing, the way their faces are only a few inches apart. It’s…distracting.

Dean’s eyes follow Cas’ finger for a moment then drop to his mouth. He swallows, then repeats hoarsely, “Definitely not.”

Cas follows the movement of Dean’s Adam’s apple as it bobs, then the peek of Dean’s tongue as he wets his lips, slightly parted. He’s caught again in the bright gleam of Dean’s eyes as their gazes lock for a moment. A crackle of power travels up his spine, making him shiver slightly. What...what had he been saying? 

“Uh, guys?” 

Cas and Dean spring apart like they’ve been busted at the back of a lecture hall. Charlie is standing in the doorway, her eyebrows raised. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but I need to get going again.”

Dean clears his throat, stepping back to lean nonchalantly against the counter, while Cas steps forward to join Charlie in the living room. “Okay. Thanks for coming to check on me. I’m fine though, honest.” His heart is hammering like a drum as he crosses the room, intent on opening the front door to let Charlie out.

“I can see that,” Charlie says with a smirk as she follows him. “Hey, I tried to find your kitty just now. Looks like he’s got a great hiding spot somewhere back there.”

Cas glances back at her, then over her shoulder to where Dean is now leaning against the kitchen door. “Uh, yeah, he’s made himself at home.”

Charlie peeks back over her shoulder, adding quietly as Dean disappears back into the kitchen, “I still don’t forgive you for not telling me about Dean, though.”

Cas frowns at her as he opens the front door. “Charlie, I swear, we’re not—”

She holds up a hand to interrupt him. “You can make it up to me by coming out on Friday night. We’re going to the Roadhouse. No excuses,” she adds, poking him in the chest. “And bring your _friend_,” she adds with a smirk.

Cas huffs out a breath. How can he go out when he might leak magic all over the place? He’s been a lot better today, though—no overloading since he’s been up, and his magic feels calmer. By Friday he should be back to normal, right?

He nods. “Okay, I’ll be there. I don’t know about Dean, though, because he’s not staying.”

“Sure.” Charlie turns to regard him for a moment, a frown on her usually perky face. “That’s not what it looked like just now in the kitchen, but whatever, keep your secrets.”

Cas rolls his eyes as he hugs her goodbye and waves as she heads away along the street. 

What _had_ happened just now in the kitchen? He closes the front door behind him, remembering the way Dean had looked at him, the way Cas had thought he was about to lean in and...

No, he has to be imagining it. He is, isn’t he? He’s sure Dean had mentioned "ladies" the other day at Bobby’s. It’s been a while since he’s thought of anyone in that way, and the sudden draw towards Dean is unexpected.

The trouble is, Dean is actually exactly Cas’ type, usually—tall and solid, and a smile that he’s sure gets Dean into plenty of trouble. Shame he’s so completely irritating.

The man himself walks out of the kitchen, a bowl of what smells like chicken soup in his hands. He flops onto the couch, narrowly missing slopping the soup all over the carpet.

“Is that...my soup?” Cas asks, his eyes narrowed. 

As if to underline Cas’ thoughts about him being irritating, Dean throws him a grin. “Might be,” he says. “Don’t worry, there’s more.” He turns his attention to firing up Netflix again.

Cas shakes his head as he walks into the kitchen. At least he’s got Charlie. What did he ever do to deserve a kind friend like her, who’d bring him soup because she heard he was sick?

On the counter, Dean has poured another steaming bowl of soup, and set it on the counter with a spoon. He glances back into the living room, where Dean has started up an episode of _Ozark_, his bare feet up on the coffee table. He sighs. How many more days?

-x-

Castiel feels a lot better on Tuesday. He hadn't had an overload since Monday morning, and although he hadn't been aware of Dean being in his room during the night, there was a distinct cat-shaped indentation in his blankets in the morning. When he'd got up, Dean had been sleeping in Felix-form, curled up again in the weak November sunshine on the living room rug. 

His second day of working at home with a restless cat had gone better than the first had. He'd tried to get some work done on Monday afternoon after Charlie had left, but his laptop kept restarting itself whenever he put fingers to keyboard, so he'd given up in disgust. 

Today, though, he'd managed to be productive, even if he'd been distracted by Dean stretching and changing position on the rug, then when the sun disappeared behind clouds, curling up next to him on the couch. As the afternoon progresses, he stretches out across the couch, pushing at Cas’ thigh with his back paws, much to Cas’ annoyance. 

Cas shuffles further into the corner of the couch, going back to the manual he’s been editing for the last few hours, but just as he gets his head back into reading, Dean starts to twitch. His paws kick lightly against Cas’ leg, and when Cas looks over, he can see Dean’s eyes moving behind his furry eyelids. He’s dreaming. The damn cat is dreaming. 

Cas is torn between complete frustration at needing to get this job finished, and his fascination in watching Dean dream as Felix. Is he dreaming of chasing mice or something? It’s weird, but also kind of adorable.

He pushes Dean’s furry legs slightly to move them away from his thigh, but Dean awakes with a jolt, all of a sudden lifting his head and shifting into his human form. His legs shoot out across Cas’ lap, landing on his keyboard with a crunch as he sits up. 

“Dean! What the—?” Cas begins, trying to pull his laptop to safety while being pinned under significantly heavier legs than the cat’s. At least Dean had managed to shift with his clothes this time—he isn’t sure he could take getting a face full of Dean’s junk right now. 

“Oh shit, sorry Cas,” Dean says, twisting to put his feet on the floor. He stretches his arms out, nearly knocking Cas in the side of the head with one fist, then pulls them in to rub at his face with both hands. 

Cas frantically checks his work, but apart from an undignified keyboard-smash in the middle of his text, it doesn’t look like anything has been changed irreparably. “Any chance you could nap somewhere else?” he mutters.

Dean throws him a frown. “Said I was sorry, didn’t I? And no. I was watching something. I can’t exactly sit around watching you work all day.”

Cas picks up his keys from where he’s left them on the coffee table and dangles them in Dean’s direction. “Well, why don’t you go get us some lunch then, if you’re so bored?” he asks, not trying to hide his exasperation. 

Dean snatches the keys, scowling at Cas as he heads out the door.

Cas smirks at him. “Good kitty,” he says, breathing a sigh of relief as the door closes behind Dean. 

As the minutes tick by, though, Cas' skin starts to prickle and itch. His computer restarts itself twice within a few minutes before he gives up on it in disgust, closing it with a snap and switching the TV on instead.

When Dean returns, paper bag full of burgers in hand, he takes one look at Cas and comes over to place his hand on Cas’ shoulder, pulling the magical charge from him like soothing water flowing through him. “Better?” he asks, sitting down next to Cas on the couch and passing him one of the burgers. 

“Thanks,” Cas says shortly. Dean might be getting on his nerves, but he’s even more frustrated that he isn’t on top of the whole magical problem yet. 

By mid-afternoon, though, Cas is feeling more steady. He’s just getting back into some work, when Dean comes out of the spare room, duffel bag in hand. “Hey man, I gotta take off.”

Cas' stomach gives an uneasy lurch. “You’re leaving?” 

Dean shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah, I need to go to Bobby’s to pick up my stuff. I’ll be back tomorrow—it’s only five hours or so from Sioux Falls.”

“You’re going to drive back?” Cas asks. He thought Dean might have some kind magical means of getting his stuff moved.

Dean says, "Yeah, my baby’s there, remember?” At Cas’ blank look, he adds, “My car? I can’t just leave her holed up at Bobby’s.”

“Okay,” Cas says, then adds, feeling uneasy, “What happens if I…you know…” He holds up his hand and twists his fingers, sending an arc fizzing between them. He quickly pulls his hand back in surprise—he hadn’t expected that to actually work.

“Hey, look at you!” Dean grins. “It’s cool though, if you start feeling a bit sparky at work, just go see Benny. It won’t work as well to be grounded by another familiar, but it’ll take the edge off.”

Cas still can’t believe Benny is a part of all this, but he nods. He’s not sure going anywhere outside of his apartment is a great idea, but he hasn't left in days now, and he's getting restless. Besides, it’ll be good to get his apartment back, and give him a chance to try to control the magic without Dean around.

Dean shifts his duffel from hand to hand. “Uh, this is kinda embarrassing, but can you give me a ride out to Bobby’s again? I doubt any Uber would take me that far. I can pay you for the gas—" 

"No, it's fine," Cas says. He puts his laptop to one side on the couch and stands up, stretching his back. "I could do with getting out of the house, anyway."

"Thanks, man. I appreciate it." Dean stands awkwardly by the door as Cas grabs his keys, and a few minutes later they're in Cas' Prius and headed out of town again. The usually grey November sky has broken up a little this afternoon, and the late sunlight streaks the clouds orange. Cas is suddenly a little concerned about navigating that forest road in the dark, but by the time they get into the forest and find Bobby’s RV again between the trees, the sky is still light. The RV sits between the trees, looking as dark and abandoned as it had a few days ago.

“Cas?” Dean says as he opens the car door, then looks over. “Don’t worry. The magic’s still there, but you’ve got a hold of it now, right?”

“Have I?” Cas asks, grimacing. He honestly has no idea. 

Dean grins. “Try not to burn anything down until I get back, okay?” He gets out of the car, slamming the door shut and tapping on the roof a couple of times, then gives a small wave as Cas backs up to turn around. 

As Cas picks his way back through the forest in the rapidly failing light, he isn’t particularly reassured. The prickling on his skin is back, growing the further he drives, and this time, he’s sure it’s because he’s apart from his familiar. 

-x-

Cas gets through Thursday without fuss. He goes to work for the first time this week, managing not to fry the elevator or any of the other electronics, and although he feels restless and prickly, he doesn’t overload. When Dean isn’t at home when he gets back that evening, he tries not to worry. The guy probably just got caught up with Bobby or something.

He can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, though. He sits on the couch alone, watching the next episode of _Ozark_, annoyed that Dean has managed to get him hooked on this story even though his favorite character just got killed off. But it’s not the same without Dean there to make flippant comments.

He stares at his phone as he lies in bed, wondering if he should call, or at least text, but eventually puts it down on the nightstand and rolls over. He needs to get used to this uneasy feeling of magic under his skin—Dean will be moving out soon, and he won’t always be there to ground him. Still, Cas falls into a fitful sleep, waking up too early only to toss and turn.

Eventually he gives up, making himself get up to go for a run just before the dawn breaks. He sticks to the pavement to avoid the frosty patches on the grass, breathing out clouds of steam as he runs beneath the lightening sky. He’d hoped the exercise would ground him, help the jittery ache in his limbs, but instead it amps him up, makes the current run faster beneath his skin, making sparks fly from his fingers when he shakes them out. He’s glad it’s too cold for anyone else to be out and about. 

By the time he’s home, showered and dressed for work, he’s shorting out lightbulbs again, and seriously considering whether he should leave the house today at all. Dean has suggested going to see Benny, though, so Cas heads into town, thankfully making it without his car dying on him. 

Benny spies him as soon as he walks into the foyer, hurrying over to clap a hand to his shoulder. “You okay there, brother? Lookin’ a little…” He trails off as an arc of electricity runs up Cas’ arm and crawls its way over to Benny. 

Cas shudders. Dean had been right, Benny grounding him didn’t feel right at all, but it had helped, for sure.

Benny looks into his face seriously. “That better? Man, you’ve got quite a charge there. Where’s Dean?”

“He had to go to Sioux Falls. I’m not sure when he’ll be back,” Cas shrugs, rubbing at his shoulder where Benny had released him. 

“Okay, well you just call if you need me again,” Benny says, heading back behind the security desk and fiddling with his phone, leaving Cas to move further inside to the elevators. 

He wonders if Benny is trying to contact Dean. His own phone is still empty of messages, and he’s thought about sending a text or even calling a couple of times this morning, but he’s pretty sure Dean would only tease him about being worried, so he hasn’t. He’s only known the guy for a week, after all, and considering before that he'd been a cat for several years, who knows where he might be now. He tries to put Dean out of his mind. 

The day is long and frustrating for completely non-magical reasons on top of his growing magical itch, and while Cas manages to avoid frying his laptop, he’s still jittery as hell. 

Charlie walks past his desk late in the afternoon, saying in a sing-song voice, “Nearly time to go-o! I hope your boyfriend is ready!”

Cas snaps at her, “Charlie, I haven’t actually seen him for days.” 

Charlie stops, her eyes wide. She looks over her shoulder at the windows for a moment. “Whoa, Cas, I thought I just saw _lightning_ reflect in your eyes just now!” Her eyes narrow. “Wait, whaddya mean you haven’t seen him. Isn’t he staying with you?”

Cas can feel the charge building, running up his spine, and he wills it away with a deep breath in. He’s just about to reply, when his phone beeps with a message. He picks it up—it’s Benny.

_ >> Someone to see you downstairs._

He’s not expecting any visitors, but it could be a delivery, he guesses. He looks up to Charlie. “I’ll be back.” 

He stands up, but Charlie follows him towards the elevators. “Nuh uh, you’re not getting away that easily.”

Cas doesn’t want a repeat of last Friday when he fried the buttons, so he pulls his sweater sleeve down before he presses it. The door opens immediately, and as Charlie follows him inside, he says, “Seriously Charlie, you don’t have to come with me.”

Charlie fixes him with a stern stare. “Tell me what’s going on, Novak. Did you dump him already?”

“No, he left. And he hasn’t been back, and I’m not sure where he is. That’s it.” He raises his hands in front of him, not sure what else he can say to get her off the subject. 

Before she can reply, the elevator doors open, and standing by the security desk in the foyer, chatting with Benny, is none other than Dean Winchester. He turns, flashing Cas a smile that makes relief bloom in his chest and his magic surge alarmingly. 

Cas steps forward, managing to get out a “Hello, Dean,” over his surprise. 

“Hey, Cas. Miss me?” Dean says, his cheeky grin in place. He claps his hand to Cas’ shoulder and an arc of magic zaps between them. 

“Whoa, did you see that?” Charlie gasps, pointing to Dean’s hand. “Cas, you just zapped him! Must be that woolen sweater.” 

“Uh, yeah. I guess it is.” Cas says distractedly, unable to take his eyes off Dean for a moment. There’s a red graze down the side of his face, and he looks tired. 

Charlie clears her throat behind him, and Dean drops his hand self-consciously. Charlie steps away back to the elevators. “I’ll just...see you in a bit,” she says.

“I’ll be right back up, Charlie,” Cas says, moving over to the side of the foyer and dragging Dean with him by the sleeve. When he hears the elevator doors closing again, he asks, “Where were you? Are you okay?” 

Benny is still half-listening from where he sits at his desk, but he doesn’t react as Dean says, “I drove back from Sioux Falls today. Bobby wanted my help on a hunt up there.” He grimaces as he puts a hand to his ribs. “Things got a little hairy—took a little longer than he thought it would.” His eyes travel over Cas’ face. “You been okay?” He reaches out to take Cas’ hand, the skin-to-skin contact draining even more of Cas’ magical charge. 

The touch to his hand is simultaneously a huge relief, and also sends some kind of thrill up Cas’ spine that has nothing to do with magic. He looks back up to Dean’s face, and those green eyes staring into his steals his breath momentarily. He might not have been great up until recently, but now… 

“Not really,” Cas admits, glancing at Benny. “No overloads, though.” 

“That’s good!” Dean says, dropping Cas’ hand and stepping back. “I uh, I just wanted to check in, make sure you weren’t sparkin’ out, y’know… I would’ve called, but I left my charger behind and my fuckin’ phone…it doesn’t have the battery life anymore, apparently.”

Cas can’t help himself—the nervous rambling is pretty adorable on a grown man. “It’s fine,” he assures Dean. “Thank you,” he adds, then gestures over his shoulder at the elevators. “I should go back up.” 

“Oh, right, course,” Dean says, stepping back again. 

Cas pulls his keys out of his pocket. “But here, let yourself in,” he says, handing them over.

Dean takes them carefully. “You sure?” 

If Cas was truthful, his apartment has felt empty over the last two nights without Dean there, but he can’t exactly tell Dean that. He nods instead. “You still need a place to stay for now, right? I have the space.” 

The smile on Dean’s face is like the sun breaking out from behind a cloud. “Thanks, Cas,” he says. “I’ll see you later.” 

“Sure,” Cas says, turning to head back to the elevator, catching the smirk on Benny’s face as he passes the desk. 

That's just great. Between Benny and Charlie, he’s never gonna hear the end of this.

-x-

Cas stares into the mirror, wishing he could magic his hair into some sort of order, but it stays stubbornly in what Charlie referred to once as “sex-hair”, but which he calls a haystack. He gives up, leaving the bathroom, only to stand face to face with Dean coming out of his bedroom, his shirt still half-buttoned. 

Cas murmurs, “Sorry,” as Dean walks into the living room ahead of him, and Cas nearly turns around and heads right back into his room as his eyes travel down Dean's strong back. His tight black jeans show off the long lines of his legs, and the burgundy button-down he’s wearing over a t-shirt makes Cas’ mouth so dry, he heads right into the kitchen to gulp down a glass of water. 

It’s frustrating—how can he find Dean so attractive, after he turned Cas’ life upside down just a week ago? There’s no denying it, though. Somehow, Cas—the gay technical writer who swore off relationships after Balthazar and his menage-a-twelve (without Cas)—has ended up accidentally sharing an apartment with some kind of Adonis who turns into a cat now and then, and who makes literal sparks fly when they touch. He chuckles to himself at the thought.

“What’s funny?” Dean asks, appearing in the kitchen doorway as he fastens the last of his buttons. 

Cas huffs out a breath. “Nothing.” His eyes catch on the scrape on the side of Dean’s face, running down from his temple. He steps closer, raising a hand, but stops just shy of touching Dean’s face, noticing the slight hitch of Dean’s breath. “You sure I can’t put anything on this? Or, like, heal you or something?” 

Dean flinches away. “No! No, it’s okay. Healing magic is...tricky. It’s real easy to take a body apart, but putting one back together? You need to learn how to do it.”

“Oh.” Cas steps back, suddenly aware of how close they’re standing. 

Dean heads back into the living room, saying over his shoulder, “Bobby can teach you some, but we’re protectors, Cas. Best to leave healing to doctors.” 

Cas follows him out the front door. “That’s a shame,” he says, closing the door behind him. Seeing the cars parked along the street, he asks, “Where did you park your car?” 

Dean gestures in front of where they’re standing. “There she is.”

Cas can't help but stare. Dean's "baby" is an old black muscle car, and it's about as different from Cas’ Prius as a car can be. He has to admit, though, she’s a sleek-looking machine, even though he’s sure she must guzzle gas. 

“Wow,” is all he manages, and Dean laughs.

“That’s what all the girls say,” he says, throwing a wink at Cas, who huffs a laugh, annoyed all over again. Girls it is, huh. Guess the attraction is all in his head, after all. _Get a grip, Novak. _

They set off to walk the two blocks to the bar where they’re due to meet Charlie, pulling their coats close in the cutting breeze blowing this evening. 

“So what was this hunt in Sioux Falls Bobby needed help with? Does he shoot deer?”

Dean glances over at him, “Uh, how about vampires?”

Cas stops dead on the sidewalk, staring at Dean. “You...you what?”

“Vampires are real, yeah.” Dean keeps talking as they walk along. “You’ve seen the ghosts and demons already, but there are all kinds of other things out there. Sometimes Bobby’ll call us in if he thinks he can’t handle something alone. In this case, he said he wanted to see how rusty I was.” He laughs ruefully. “Turns out pretty rusty.” He rubs at his ribs again, wincing.

“What happened?” Cas isn’t sure he wants to know, but if he’s going to be expected to deal with this at some point, he probably needs to hear about it.

“Not much to tell,” Dean says. “There were more than Bobby thought. One sentry jumped me from behind, booted me in the ribs and I went down on some gravel.” He touched his face gingerly. “Bobby got that one, but we had to hole up in a corner until we could get help in to finish the rest of them. The new kids, Max and Alicia, were able to come, but by the time we were all done, it was too late to drive back Thursday night.” 

He trails off as they near the strip of clubs and restaurants, clustered with groups of people enjoying their nights out. 

Cas shows him to the bar where he agreed to meet Charlie, and is nearly bowled over by the small redhead as they enter the building.

“Oof. Charlie!” 

“There you are! Oh, and...hey Dean,” Charlie says, leering at Dean. She turns back to Cas, loudly whispering at him, “He’s pretty.”

Cas grimaces, wondering how much she’s already had to drink. “Okaaay, Charlie, let us grab a drink,” he says hurriedly as he steadies her with hands on her shoulders. 

“Sure. We’re just over there,” she says, pointing vaguely across the room. She heads off into the crowd before Cas can see where she’s headed, and when he looks back, Dean is going in the opposite direction, towards the bar. Cas hurries after him, shouldering his way through the crowds of young professionals. 

It takes the two of them a few minutes to locate Charlie in the crowds across the room, once they have beers in hand. As they walk across the corner of the dance floor, empty of dancers at this early stage in the night, Dean does a few boogying steps as he crosses the space. Despite his dorky moves, Cas has noticed a number of women eyeing Dean up since they arrived. Shaking his head, he wonders if he can avoid having to play gay-wingman tonight. 

He spies Charlie standing with a taller, dark-haired woman—Dorothy, Cas remembers. That night at the pumpkin festival honestly feels like another world away, even though it’s only been a few weeks. He’s still finding it hard to believe that black cat was _Dean_.

Charlie waves them over, murmuring something to Dorothy as they approach. “Cas! You remember Dorothy, right?”

Cas smiles at her. “I do,” he says. “Nice to see you again.” 

Dorothy reaches out to shake his hand with a smile of her own, then Charlie gestures to Dean. “And this is Dean, Cas’...uh, roomie. Dean, Dorothy.” 

“Hey, Dorothy,” Dean says with an easy smile.

Charlie grins at Dean. “Glad you came back, Dean. Cas was sooo worried about you.”

Cas stares at her for a few moments wondering if he could cast some kind of a spell on the ground to swallow him up. He laughs nervously, glancing at Dean, who’s listening, interested. “I wasn’t—” he begins, but Charlie continues.

“You were, I can tell. You’ve been acting weird all week. You _missed _him.” 

Cas wonders what she’d say if he said he’d been acting weird because he was about to explode with magic, rather than missing Dean…but instead, he sighs. The more he tries to deny it, the more teasing there will be. Let Charlie think what she likes, even if it’s a little bit true. “Sure, whatever,” he grumbles, and narrows his eyes at Charlie’s huge, smug grin. Damn her.

They drink companionably, and Cas ends up chatting with Dorothy about her work on classical literature. She’s working to translate some ancient texts, a subject which Cas could honestly talk about for hours, but they have to stop when Charlie drags Dorothy onto the dance floor now that some loud, upbeat music starts playing. 

Cas is left standing alone, since Dean seems to have struck up a conversation with some other young woman standing at a table behind them. He laughs as he listens to what she’s saying, then smiles his charming smile, and Cas tries not to frown at them as he feels a cold sensation in his chest. He shouldn't be feeling territorial over Dean—he’s perfectly free to talk to whomever he chooses. The idea of Dean bringing this woman home to his spare bed is less than pleasant, though.

Definitely frowning now, Cas drains the last of his drink, then heads back towards the bar. Dean catches his eye as he passes and his smile drops slightly, but Cas continues past as though nothing is amiss. He is absolutely not jealous of the dark-haired beauty Dean is talking to. Not at all.

At the bar, Cas stands behind a crowd of people waiting to order drinks. He feels restless, uneasy in his stomach. He might be here all night, he realizes as he turns to frown at a couple at the bar in front of him who aren’t waiting for drinks. The man is all over the woman, kissing at her neck and pulling at her ear with his teeth. He murmurs something in her ear and she nods, taking his hand to lead him past Cas. 

He feels an uneasy lurch of the energy he’s come to associate with magic as the guy brushes past, and as he looks back at Cas, his eyes turn completely black, whites and all. Cas sucks in a sharp breath as the guy turns back, hurrying the girl to the back of the room and out the door to the back areas of the club. 

Cas can hardly hear the thump-thump of the music anymore for the rushing in his ears. He doesn’t know what that thing is, but it’s certainly not human, and doesn’t have good things planned for that girl, he’s sure. 

He hurries back over to Dean, who’s now on the dance floor with the dark-haired girl. When he sees Cas his face lights up in a smile.

“Cas! C’mon, dance with us,” he says, grabbing Cas’ arm and pulling him in, his hips swaying into Cas and making him gasp. Dean’s face is momentarily up close to his, and he’s lost in the bright, happy light reflected in the green of Dean’s eyes. Then he remembers why he’s interrupting Dean. 

“No, Dean, stop.” He leans in close to talk over the music into Dean’s ear. “There was a man back there.” He glances back over his shoulder, but the man and woman are both gone. “There was something weird with his…his eyes...” He trails off, not knowing how to explain it. 

“Were they black?” Dean asks, grabbing Cas’ arm urgently, his face suddenly grim.

When Cas nods, Dean mutters, “Fuck. Demon." He glances around, then says, "One sec.” He turns to the lady he'd been dancing with, murmuring something close to her ear. She nods, smiling, and Cas' chest clenches in an unpleasant way. Then Dean turns away and heads to the back of the room.

Cas follows, wondering what Dean is planning to do. A real demon, already? Cas hasn't even learned how to control his own magic yet, how is he supposed to know how to deal with an actual demon? 

Dean pauses as they reach the door to the bathrooms, turning to Cas with a scowl. "Out here?" 

Cas says quietly, "Yes, I think they went out that way—there's a door to the back of the club, I think." Dean turns, but before he can move, Cas grabs his arm above the elbow making him turn back. He asks urgently, "Dean, what are we gonna do to him?" 

"Ever heard of an exorcism?" Dean asks, turning to hurry along the corridor. 

Cas blinks, confused. "Like in _The Exorcist_?" 

"Sorta, except not at all," Dean says, shaking his head. "You're gonna rip the demon out of that guy." 

"I'm what?" Cas asks, and it sounds loud in the close space away from the thump of the music in the bar. "Dean, I don't know how!" 

“Well, it’s either that or I stab the asshole, and I don’t think that’s a great idea in an alley that’s gonna have cameras.”

Cas just stares at him as they reach the end of the corridor and Dean hesitates in front of the emergency exit doors. He turns his head, catching Cas' eye again. "What? I'm not actually gonna stab him, Cas. Do I look like a serial killer?" He puts both hands on the doors. "Don't answer that," he adds, and pushes the doors open. 

Outside, they find themselves in a back lot, the area lit up by one bright security light creating deep shadows behind a dumpster and a couple of cars parked here. Cas peers into the dark spaces—he can feel the same unease that he'd found inside the club—must be the demon he can sense. That's a handy trick, he supposes. 

Dean steps out onto the concrete in front of the door, heading for a dark patch on the other side of the dumpster. “Get outta here,” he says, disgust in his voice.

Cas hears a short scream, and a woman—the one from inside, hurries away, adjusting her clothing as she ducks back through the back door, scowling at Cas on her way past. 

A voice comes from the shadows, “What’d you do that for, asshole?” The man stands there—as Cas steps closer he can see him standing near the wall of the club. 

Dean stands illuminated by the bright floodlight, his stance relaxed, his fist clenching. “You can go back to where you came from, demon.” 

The guy makes a _tsk_ noise with his tongue, then steps forward into Dean’s space, his shoulders squared. “That’s not a nice thing to call someone, is it?”

Cas is struck by a sudden doubt. Is this the same guy from inside? Maybe they’ve just bothered some other couple. “Dean? I don’t think this is…” He trails off as the man takes another step into the light, turning his completely black eyes on Cas. A shiver of electricity travels up Cas' spine. 

“Witches,” the man spits out, and he pushes his hand into Dean’s chest, hard. Dean flies backwards through the air, slamming into one of the parked cars with a clang. 

Cas cries out, “Dean!” as Dean slumps to the ground, dazed, but conscious. Cas curses as the guy steps towards him next. How has he ended up fistfighting with demons when he’s never raised a hand to anyone in his life? All he’s got is a few self-defence tips he got in college, and that’s not going to help him against a man possessed by a supernatural creature. 

Dean had told him to pull the demon out, though. Could he summon up enough magic to do that without burning himself out?

The demon moves in to throw a punch, but Cas concentrates on the magic he’d felt rising earlier, drawing it into his hands. He holds his palms out to block, as surprised as the demon looks when a crackle of energy pulses over his palms and a bright flash of sparks bursts from where the demon touches him. It doesn’t stop the punch from landing, though. The back of Cas’ hands hit his own chest and send him flying onto his back on the concrete, but as he recovers and scrambles back to his feet, he sees the demon rubbing at his knuckles, wisps of smoke rising from them. 

He lunges at Cas again, grabbing him by the jacket before Cas has a chance to summon any more magic. This close there’s a smell to the guy that hits Cas full in the face—a stench of unwashed human over the top of something decaying, nearly making him gag.

The demon pulls Cas around and slams him back into the brick wall, cracking Cas’ head against it hard enough to make sparks explode in his vision. He grips the demon’s arms, trying to push him away, but the guy draws a fist back and socks Cas in the stomach, punching the air from his lungs. The floor starts to buck alarmingly under his feet. The magic...he needs to do something… 

He grabs the demon by the front of his shirt, grimacing as he straightens up, but just then, Dean slams into the demon from behind, grabbing the arm that had been winding up for another strike with one arm, and reaching for Cas with the other. He slaps his palm against the exposed part of Cas’ neck just above his shirt collar. 

“Now, Cas,” he hisses, and floods Cas with magic. 

The sensation is similar to the previous overloads he’s had this week—a growing core of energy inside his chest, fire racing along his veins, and blue-white glowing in Dean’s eyes as Cas stares into them. This time, however, the energy is flowing _into_ him—he has to direct the energy somewhere, and quickly. 

Turning his eyes to the demon inside the man, he flinches. He can see it now, or rather, feel its edges—a malevolent presence, unnatural. He removes one hand from the man’s jacket and presses his palm to the man's forehead, trying to wrap his magic around the creature inside. A flickering white light appears in the man’s horrified eyes, then his head is thrown back and a black smoke escapes out of his mouth, spiraling away into the sky. The man’s eyes roll back in his head, and he slumps to the ground before either Cas or Dean can catch him. 

“Fuck! It got away,” Dean says, but Cas barely hears it. The power is still within him, filling him up, burning through his veins, through every synapse. He feels as though he might be able to fly, if he just lifts his feet.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice comes from far away, and he feels hands on him, on his neck, on his hand. “Let it go, man.” He opens his eyes and sees Dean, an aura glowing so brightly around him that Cas has to squint and turn his face away from it.

He reluctantly lets the energy go, allows Dean to draw it back and away. As his vision returns to normal, Dean’s bright aura fades, and arcs of lightning crackle down over the outside of their clothes.

Dean stares into Cas’ eyes, his hand still on Cas’ neck and his other hand gripping Cas’ hand tightly. He lets out a short breath, shaking his head. “Fuck, man, I thought I’d lost you there.”

“Cas?” A voice calls from the back door of the club, and Dean springs back away from Cas. Charlie steps out, making a short squealing sound as she sees them in the shadows. “Ooh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt! Never mind me, i’ll just be inside!” She skips back inside the door, laughing as she goes. 

Charlie with the dramatic entrances again—how is he ever going to explain this? Cas leans back against the brick wall, dropping his gaze to the man lying on the ground, who moans slightly as he shifts. Cas lifts a hand to rub at the back of his head where it struck the bricks—it’s sore to touch. 

“Bad timing,” Dean says with a wince, as he squats next to the ex-demon. “You okay there, buddy?”

The guy groans again, but manages to sit up, with Dean’s help. “What...what happened? Where am I?”

“Think you might have hit your head there, dude.” Dean offers the guy a hand up, and they both get to their feet. “Why don’t you head inside, see if you can get some water.” 

The guy thanks Dean and stumbles inside, and Dean moves to lean on the bricks beside Cas. 

“Are you okay? You hit that car pretty hard,” Cas asks, rubbing at his sore ribs this time. Probably nothing broken, he thinks. Doesn’t hurt much to breathe.

Dean shrugs. “I’m okay. Shifting makes familiars tough.” 

“We didn’t get it, did we?” Cas asks, knowing the answer already as he turns to look at Dean—he’d felt the demon leave the man, and it wasn’t his doing.

“Nope.” Dean shakes his head. “It escaped. We’ll get it, though. It’ll be around, hunting for some other young blood.”

Cas shudders. “What was he doing to that girl?” 

“If she’s lucky, it was feeding on her soul.”

“And unlucky?”

Dean pushes off the wall again, rubbing at his back with both hands as he turns towards the back door of the club. “Her lifeforce. Different demons like different energies—it’s hard to tell which is which, but I doubt that was a shtriga. Just your average soul-sucker.”

“Dean,” Cas asks, not moving from the wall as his frustration builds. “How am I going to learn all this? There’s so much. And it didn’t even work!” 

Dean turns back, his voice hard for a moment. "I don’t fuckin’ know, I’ve never done it before! I’ve only ever seen Bobby do it a few times before… before I...”

Remorse rushes through Cas, and he steps forward to join Dean in the floodlight once again. It’s been a rough week for both of them. He puts his hand to Dean’s arm. “I’m sorry. At least we saved that guy, right?”

Dean lets out his breath in a short sigh. “Yeah. Hope the poor guy hasn’t been MIA for too long.”

Cas nods, then shuffles uncomfortably, pulling his ha. “Guess you’d better head back inside to your friend—she seemed pretty into you.” He sounds pathetic, he’s sure, but all he wants to do right now is go home and wash the stink of demon off him. 

Dean eyes Cas, then says, “Yeah, I guess.” He turns towards the door, and Cas’ heart falls. He guesses he’s on his own tonight.

But Dean stops after only a couple of steps, spinning around on his feet. “You know what I could really go for, though? Pie.”

Cas tilts his head, not really sure what Dean is trying to say. “Pie?” 

“Yup. You like pie, Cas?” Dean takes a step back towards him, quirking a grin. The graze on the side of his face looks dark in the shadow from the floodlight, and Cas wonders if it’s bleeding again.

“I do like pie,” he admits, and Dean’s face lights up. 

“Awesome. Let’s go, then. There was a diner we walked past on the way here, right?”

He falls into step beside Cas, and they move away from the back lot, up the drive towards the street. Cas fires off a quick text to Charlie to let her know that he’s heading home, dreading to think what she’s going to make of it. 

The diner is only a few doors up, and they navigate the crowds on the street outside the bars and inside to find an empty table near the windows. 

They order three types of pie and coffee and settle in their seats without really saying much. Cas rubs at the bump on the back of his head, and Dean winces as he stretches his arms above his head, but neither of them speaks until the server brings the pie and coffee and leaves. 

“I don’t have to come back to your place,” Dean says, startling Cas. “If you don’t want me to, I mean.”

Cas tilts his head, putting his coffee cup down on its saucer. “What do you mean? Where would you go?”

Dean shrugs one shoulder. “You obviously got on okay without me there the last couple of days, or would have if I’d actually had a working phone, anyway.” He grimaces. “I found a little cash in my stuff yesterday, so I can find a motel, I guess. Or I’ll go back to Bobby’s, although when I was there yesterday his spare room was full o’ books and crap, but I can crash on his couch.” He shovels a mouthful of pie into his mouth.

Cas nods, and they look uneasily at each other for a few moments, before Cas takes a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh. He can’t just kick Dean out like this. It doesn’t feel right, even if he and the witch’s life had walked in uninvited. 

“Look, Dean, I...I’m sorry for what I said at Bobby’s. I really shouldn’t have said those things.” 

“Oh?” Dean looks up from his pie. "Which things, exactly?” He's acting innocent, but there’s a cheeky quirk to his mouth that has Castiel narrowing his eyes. 

Cas takes another breath, knowing that he has to get this right. “I was overwhelmed. Scared, even. I don’t mind you staying at my place if you need to.”

Dean nods thoughtfully, before he says, “That because you're scared of sparking out again? Or because I’m adorable and you can’t bear to let me be homeless?”

Cas snorts, feeling his ears heating up. “A little of both? I mean,” he adds hastily, “not the adorable thing, obviously. But uh, the homeless thing.” Now he’s sure his face must be flaming. 

Dean laughs. “Guess I’ll think about hanging around, then,” he says. 

Cas rolls his eyes, even as he breathes out in relief. Honestly, Dean is so much like his feline self sometimes—if he now agrees to stay at Cas’ place at all, it will be on his terms. 

He takes a bite of his caramel pie, feeling calmer for the first time all week. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go! Cas is coming into his powers more now, and also succumbing to Dean's charms. Honestly, you can't help falling in love with cats. They snuggle their fuzzy way into your heart when you're not looking. 
> 
> Do let me know what you think! I know that a lot of you (probably all) are also reading my lovely friends' WIP, [White Collar Contract](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22052350) (and if you're not, then what are you doing here? Go read immediately!) so I hope this has provided a little light hearted relief from the angst going on over there <3 Love yas!


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